Powerless
by Jordana Amore
Summary: A new take on an old story line. Olivia deals with a traumatic event. She and Elliot have a heated discussion on the roof. Can he be there for her or will her situation push them apart? FINAL Ch. up now up.
1. Default Chapter

**A.N: I know the _Olivia gets attacked_ thing has been done...a lot, but I've been reading a lot of stories lately and I got inspired so I decided to take a crack at it, of course from a different angle. Please Review. **

**Also I posted this yesterday and then noticed some typos so I replaced the chapter, now I'm re-posting for the third time because I realized I forgot the disclaimer and I am not really in the mood to be sued. Sorry for any confusion. Oh, and there seems to be a problem with the spacing format, I fixed it but I don't know if it worked.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. **

He knew she'd be here. He wonders what she's thinking as he stares at her back preparing himself to approach her. The sun's going down and the sky is a breathtaking blend of blue, orange, purple and yellow. Its absolutely beautiful, but he knows she's not up here to enjoy the view. She's leaning forward, against the dark brick ledge, looking down. She's not thinking about jumping. She's not that type of person, he knows that. She just wanted to be alone. She _is_ that type of person. He watches her for a few minutes. He can't see her face but he knows she's crying. Her body is shaking slightly with sobs. Her shoulders rise and fall steadily. He approaches her, purposely making noise as he does. The last thing he wants to do is startle her.

She doesn't have to turn around to know its him. "Go away." It comes quietly from her lips. She knows he won't, ever, but she has to let him know she doesn't want him right now. She brings her hands to her face and wipes the tears from her eyes before turning around. "What do you want?" she asks coldly, harshly. She wants to hurt him, push him away.

He's perfectly still, his hands in his pockets like a little kid. He seems disoriented, confused. That's understandable. She did just spring this on him a few minutes ago. She hadn't even meant to tell him. She was content to keep it to herself and let it slowly eat away at her.

They were arguing and he kept accusing of her of hiding something from him. She evaded his questions for a while, but when he got angry so did she. And then she just blurted it out. Screamed it at him, adding a childish _"are you happy now"_ afterwards. Of course he wasn't happy. And God knows she wasn't.

The wind whirls some garbage around on the rooftop. Why can't people just throw their crap away? "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks lowly. She rolls her eyes. Does he really think he's entitled to know every last detail of her life. "I could have helped you!" He finds himself shouting at her as he paces the rooftop. He knows this is not what she needs right now, but he can't help it. The rage consumes him.

She shakes her head angrily. "No. No, you couldn't have. This isn't about you Elliot!" She's only shouting because he is. He has the power to sweep her up with his emotions, he always did. She lowers her voice and calmly tells him, "this is my problem. I'll deal with it however I want to."

"Why Liv? Why? You know better."

"Yes. I do. I know that this would go no where. So why bother? Why put myself through that?" Her voice is flat.

He bites his lip in frustration. Why is she being so stubborn? "Because..." he trails off. "To get justice." It's a weak response. The first thing that came to his a mind. A sad tired cliche, but its appropriate.

"Justice? "she laughs dryly. "I'm so far past justice."

He frowns at her, the same frown he gives one of his children when he's disappointed in them, not angry, just disappointed. She hates that look. Its condescending and bleak. "When did you stop believing, huh? When did you give up on the very system you dedicated your life to?"

"Seven days, sixteen hours," she retorts looking down at her watch, "and twenty-three minutes ago." Her answer stops him cold for a moment. He didn't expect her to answer that. Of course that experience was going to change everything in her life. "Because right after, I realized that he would get away with it. I shifted into Detective mode and I just knew. There was nothing I could do-not during and not after. I was powerless then and I am now. He took everything from me!" Her voice is unintentionally high and it shocks her. She throws her head back to keep the tears from spilling. The lump in her throat starts to hurt and she swallows hard.

"That's not true," he says softly. He's no longer angry. Now he's sad, genuinely sad for her. "I could help you go after him. We could get him."

Olivia shakes her head again. Now its her who's not angry, but sad. "No El. You couldn't. I'm not stupid, I know how these things work. I do it for a living. I see it all the time. People saw us at the bar together...talking, laughing, drinking. He walked me to my apartment. I was stupid enough to let him in. I was drunk enough to not realize his intentions. I just wasn't strong enough to stop him." Elliot's silent. This is the first mention of any specific. Olivia continues without emotion."He only hit me a couple of times and he didn't leave a mark...there's no evidence. There's only witnesses who saw us flirting. All he has to do is say it was consensual and that I'm lying. Why wouldn't people believe him? Why would anyone believe me?" She pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath. "I wouldn't even believe me." She lets her hands fall to her side in defeat. "Just drop it Elliot. Forget I even told you." She starts to walk away from him.

"How could you just let that happen?" The words escape his mouth-called out abruptly to stop her from walking away.

Olivia freezes. His words cut her deep, utterly stun her. The look on her face as she turns around is undescribable. She fixes her eyes on him crossly and lets them linger there for a moment. Elliot sees the pain in her face immediately and he knows he made a mistake-a huge mistake. That's not what he meant. But before he has a chance to explain himself, she says scornfully "_let it happen?_" Her words are sharp and deliberate. Her face tight and expressive. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other and folds her arms across her chest-her no nonsense stance. "You think I _let _it happen?" She speaks slowly, carefully articulating every syllable, but she does not allow him to answer."You think I didn't try to stop him? That I didn't scream, kick, fight? I _begged_ him to stop! Literally _begged_ him not to do what he was doing," she cried. He knew the importance of that last statement. Olivia wasn't the begging type. She was proud, sometimes too proud. "How dare you come up here and accuse me of such a thing!" There's fire in her eyes, and in some bizarre way he's glad to see it. The past week had been difficult, he didn't know why till now but she was different. Her eyes were dull, her expression blank. She had lost her determination, her fire. Now he saw it again. That's the Olivia he knows.

She's screaming at him in her own defense, but the feeling of guilt in the pit of her stomach is growing. She can't think there was something she could have done, or not done, to stop it. But she refuses to let him see her weakness.

"No. That's not what I meant." He felt sick. How could he say that to her? He silently berates himself.

"You mean that's not what you meant for me to hear. Cause that's what you said," she reminds him. He's speechless. "I thought I knew you Elliot. I thought you were different." They look at each other for what seems like forever. "When did you stop believing in me, huh?"

With that final accusation she knocks the wind from him. It feels like he's just been punched in the stomach, hard. She leaves him on the rooftop shattered and alone. He hates himself for what he did, for making it worse. He can't change things. He's powerless, just like she was that night. It's an awfully painful feeling.

His only intention was to help his partner, the partner he cares about and loves like a sister. He really didn't mean to say that, but he couldn't help think it. He wanted her to be stronger so she didn't have to go through this. That's all. He just wanted her to be alright. He never believed she was weak, not for one second, but he just wished she was able to stop it, or to keep herself out of that situation entirely. He just wished things were different. But they weren't. She would have to deal with this horrible thing that happened to her and he would have to figure out how to be there for her without hurting her. He sighs and leaves the roof.

P.S. I'm not sure where I'm going with this or if I'm going to continue. I might work backwards or just leave it as a one shot. Let me know what you think. Thanks.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: Okay, I've been encouraged to continue, so I will, but I've played around with the sequence of events. This chapter takes place before the last one. Please review. Thanks. **

**Twenty minutes earlier**

"What's the matter with you?" Elliot asks his partner. Its not meant to sound harsh but it does. Olivia gives him an annoyed look but no answer. She's not in the mood for an argument. "Olivia," he demands. She's been acting strange all day, all week in fact, and he's had enough of it. He wants to get to the bottom of this, like a good detective.

She takes a deep breath and grinds her teeth, willing herself to remain calm. She doesn't want to fight with him right now because it wouldn't be about him. It wouldn't be fair to him. And she just doesn't have the energy. Normally she would have no problem going at it with him, exchanging accusations and explanations, but not now.

His words attack her again. "Do you even care anymore?" he asks now, his voice cold. "You were all over the place in there." She glares back at him. Why is he telling her this? She knows, after all she was there too. "Liv, if something's going on with you just tell me." He's pleading with her to open up, but she quickly rejects him.

"Leave me alone Elliot," Olivia finally speaks. She turns and walks away from him. So she was a little distracted during an interrogation-a very critical interrogation. There's worse things she could do.

They're standing outside the station house in the fading sunlight. He had followed her out there only a few minutes ago after she stormed out of the squad room. Now she walks back towards the precinct. Her day isn't over yet, she just had to clearher head,get away for a bit, but he wouldn't even let her do that.

"Fine!" he shouts at her, throwing his arms up in resignation. "I was just trying to help you." He shakes his head and wonders why he bothers. Its obvious she doesn't want anything to do with him.

She doesn't turn around to respond. "Well, I don't need your help." It seems to be an automatic response lately, her answer to anyone's attempt to get over that twenty foot wall she built around herself.

"Yeah, you're right," he snaps back. "You don't need anything from anyone-keep telling yourself that." He can't help being frustrated. He's not getting through to her. Why do all the women in his life have to be difficult, he wonders.

Olivia stops and turns herself around slowly. "Why do you care anyway?"

He looks her dead in the eyes and answers, "because you're my partner." She rolls her eyes turning them away from his. She finds it hard to believe that all his nagging and meddling stems from care. It seems awfully convenient. She decides that he just wants to be able to fix things, to be important. It's a terribly pessimistic and unlikely notion and far from her regular outlook, but she figures she's entitled to it. She usually welcomes the interest in her life. Frankly, its nice to have someone looking after you. But now she wished he'd just leave her alone. Let her live her life, no matter how badly she's doing it.

She sighs and pinches the top of her nose between her two fingers. "Listen, I'm sorry if I'm messing up the case. I'll try to keep my personal life from interfering with my work." It's a feeble attempt to end the conversation. She knows that's not what this confrontation is about, but if it stops this exchange then she'd gladly accept it.

"Olivia, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about you, and I don't understand why you just won't tell me what's going on. I'm sure, whatever it is, I could help." She silently snickers at that last statement. Help her? No one could help her. "We can't work together if we don't trust each other. And you keeping something from me is going to blow up in our faces eventually."

"I'm not keeping anything from you," she replies meekly in defense.

Elliot shakes his head. "Don't lie to me on top of it all."

"Why should I tell you?" she cries suddenly. "What's that going to do for either of us."

"You have to trust me, Liv! I can't read you god-damn mind." Again she's walking away. He goes after. This seems to be a common occurrence in their relationship. The familiar dance they do over and over again. One chasing after the other, trying to help, the other resisting, insisting there's nothing wrong. When is it enough? When do you accept that the other person doesn't want your help? They've both wondered that before on separate occasions. Working with someone shouldn't be this deep, but they're more than co-workers. "Alright, walk away! Pretend there's nothing going on! You're real good at that!"

Olivia's body whips around with the speed of lightening. "I was raped!" she spits at him. Tears start to fill her eyes. "_There._ Are you happy now?" There are people walking past them but she doesn't care. She drops her head. She can'tlook him in the eyes right now. He would see right through her. Past the pathetic facade of strength and ability to the debilitating truth of fear and weakness.

Elliot's mouth drops open. He's in complete shock-unable tomove or speak. Heprays he heard her wrong, but knows he didn't. His mind is telling him to respond, say something to her, but he just stands there staring at her wide eyed. Nothing could have prepared him for that.

Olivia looks at him with inconsolable eyes. She's waiting for him to make the next move because she's unsure what she should do now. Instantly she regrets telling him. She knows she just permanently altered his view of her. That single sentence will change the way her looks at her forever. She won't be is strong capable partner anymore. She's poor fragile Olivia now-the cop who couldn't even protect herself. She doesn't want to be a victim, that's why she refused to mention it, or even think about it. She tells herself she's different from all those women she encountered in her role as a SVU detective. She's in denial, deep dangerous painful denial. She nods and licks her lips, as if to say _see what you did._

Finally she succeeds in walking away from him. It's only a matter of time before he goes after her.


	3. Chapter Three

**A.N. Ok, I'm still going backwards here, although that might change in later chapters (if I decide to continue).**

**This chapter starts at the beginning of the week and leads up to the first two chapters. So that would be a day or two after the attack, but before the discussion (in ch 1 and 2). OK? This chapter is meant to show the changes in Olivia's behavior and Elliot's reaction. So its just parts of random days. Let me know if I'm getting too confusing. Thanks. Please review.**

**Earlier that week.**

**_Monday morning_ **

"Hey," Elliot greeted his partner cheerfully as he swaggered through the squad room. Olivia lifted her head and nodded in acknowledgment. "Been here long?" She shrugged. "Its not even eight," he pointed out. "What are you doing here?"

Olivia shrugged again. She couldn't tell him the truth. She couldn't say that being in her apartment made her physically ill. She couldn't admit that she was afraid to stay there alone. She couldn't tell him that she has been unable to shake the horrifying images from her mind. She couldn't mention that the couch, the entire living room in fact, is just a painful reminder, and she would rather be here, anywhere, then there.

"Why are you in so early?" she returned after a brief pause. She had learned at an early age that there's no better way to avoid answering a question then asking one.

"Me?" he replied as he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. "I gotta be in court at nine a.m. sharp." He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and sat down at his desk. "I want to finish some things before I leave. Casey said this might take a while so I don't want to leave myself too much work for later."

"How responsible of you," she said drily.

He smiled, missing the lack of humor in her statement. "That's me-Mr. Responsible."

Olivia dropped her head and returned her attention to her work. Not even twenty minutes passed before Elliot spoke up again. "Must be some pretty interesting paper work."

"Hmm?" She seemed a little distracted. She didn't even bother to look at him.

"You seem rather engrossed over there," Elliot grinned.

"Just working." Again her eyes went to the papers in front of her. Elliot watched her for a few moments. She felt his eyes on her. "What?"

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Nothing. Just working." She flashed him an annoyed look. She wasn't in the mood for friendly banter or games. Once again she focused on the paper work covering her desk.

Another ten minutes ticked by. "Ok, what's going on with you?" Elliot asked, finally unable to sit across from her idly.

Olivia lifted her eyes. "Nothing." He didn't buy that. On any other day he would easily be able to bait her into some frivolous conversation. Today she seemed unapproachable, distant.

"Bad night?"

Her eyes widened. His question throwing her off course a bit. Could he tell just by looking at her? She brought her eyes up to meet his but quickly adjusting her gaze so she was looking at the floor. "Yeah," she answered quietly, closing her eyes and trying not to think about it.

"What?" He could barely hear her.

Olivia shook her head. "No, nothing. I'm just a little tired." She offered him a weak smile.

"All right." They continued to work silently.

* * *

_**Wednesday afternoon **_

"This girl hasn't given us a single straight answer," Fin said heading straight for the coffee machine. He immediately filled two cups.

Munch followed him through the squad room. "She's a victim, Fin. She's scared and traumatized."

"I don't know," Fin replied as he brought a cup to his lips and took a long sip.

"You think she's lying?" Munch asked. Fin handed him the second cup and he sat down behind his desk.

Olivia, who had been working at her desk with Elliot, lifted her head to listen more carefully. She was starring at Fin, waiting for him to answer.

"I think she was too tanked to know what the hell she was doing that night," Fin answered.

Munch nodded. "That's why we're investigating. This guy took advantage of her."

"How do we even know she said no? For all we know she woke up the next morning with some serious regrets and decided to cry rape." Noone answered, but Olivia couldn't tear her eyes away from the two detectives. "Look, I'm all for locking up rapists, they're the scum of the Earth, but the truth is only two people know what happened in that room. Why should we automatically take her word for it? After all she was the one who was drunk."

A grumbled sound of disgust escaped Olivia's mouth. Quickly she pushed her chair back, stood up and rushed out of the room. Only Elliot noticed her demeanor.

When she returned, Elliot was waiting to talk to her. "Where's Fin and Munch?" Olivia asked looking around but relieved they weren't there.

"Something came up with their case," he answered. She nodded and sat down. Elliot waited a couple of minutes before attempting to ask her about what just happened. "You all right," he asked. He leaned back in his chair and tried to act casual.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" She tried her best to sound normal.

"You were in such a hurry to get out of here a minute ago."

She smiled innocently. "I had to go to the bathroom."

"It didn't bother you then?"

"What didn't?"

"Fin and Munch's conversation," he clarified.

"Why would it?" Olivia returned, overcompensating for her anxious state with uncharacteristic indifference.

Elliot shrugged. That he really didn't know. "You just seemed," he hesitated, "invested."

"Nope," she said simply. She started to flip through some papers on her desk. He stole one last glance at her before returning to his own work. That was his last venture into the complicated mind of Olivia Benson, he told himself.

But it was only a matter of time before he tried again.

* * *

_**Friday morning**_

The hospital waiting room was almost vacant, although it still held the depressing feel that seemed to accompany all hospital waiting rooms, packed or empty. The lack of people was highly unusual for such a busy city, even at 3:54 in the morning. Olivia sat on one of the hard ugly plastic orange chairs with a cup of coffee in one hand and her head in the other. Across from her, a young child clinging to his mother's dress and clutching a small asthma inhaler wheezed heavily. A few chairs over a middle-aged man held his right arm in his left hand, writhing and gasping in pain. Olivia threw him an annoyed look. She'd broken her arm before-it doesn't hurt that much. Be a man.

Elliot approached the waiting area. His partner always beat him to crime scenes. He had to come all the way from Queens. Most of the time she didn't even have to get on the highway.

He came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey Liv," he started. She jumped from the suddenness of his touch. Her shoulder jerked back in defense, the cup of coffee dropped to the floor and she sprang to her feet. When she turned and saw it was him she sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

"Damn it," she muttered looking down at the mess she made.

Elliot took a step back in confusion. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me," she said firmly. "You just startled me."

"I'll get something to clean that up," he said, eyeing her strangely. She was never that easy to scare, or startle.

"No. I'll do it." She walked away, leaving Elliot worrying about her in a puddle of coffee.

Minutes later she returned and knelt down to clean the floor. Elliot knelt beside her and took some paper towels from her. She didn't refuse his help. _That's a start_, he thought. "Did Cragen fill you in on the case?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, taking the soaked towels and throwing them in a nearby garbage can. "Where's the kid?"

"Exam room. We can't see him till they finish stitching up his head."

"He's awake?"

Olivia nodded. "Woke up just as I got here."

"Wow. I would think a baseball bat to the head would keep a nine-year-old out a little longer." Elliot tried to shake off the brutality of the crime. He couldn't fathom why anyone would want to hurt a child like that. "And the stepfather?" He didn't know the man but he hated him.

"In custody," Olivia answered. "Uniforms picked him up three blocks from his house."

"Stupid and slow," Elliot mumbled. Olivia gave him a sympathetic look. She knew how much cases like this got to him. Seeing a hurt child never became routine. "Who called it in?"

"The boy's little sister. She's five. She watched the whole thing from the closet. Mother's on her way. She was in Boston on business."

* * *

_**Friday evening**_

"Mr. Greene," Detective Stabler hissed as he walked into the interrogation room. His partner was already sitting across from the suspected child abuser. "Brian," he began, "could I call you Brian?" He flashed the man a crooked smile."You wanna tell me what happened this morning."

Brian shifted in his seat anxiously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you always go for runs around the neighborhood at midnight?" Olivia asked unable to deliver her normal intense stare.

"Midnight?" Brian repeated. "I wasn't even home till two. Ask the baby-sitter."

Olivia thought for a moment. She shook her head recognizing her mistake. "Three," she corrected. Elliot gave her a long look. _Big deal_, she thought glaring back at him, _so I forgot the time-line_._ It happens. _She tried not to let her mistake bother her, but the truth was it made her angry. Wasn't it enough that the rape was consuming her mind and screwing up her personal relationships? Now, it had to interfere with her work too. It's too much. It's not fair.

"Your stepson, Spencer," Elliot said to take back the interview. "You smashed him over the head with a baseball bat." He sat down next to Brian and threw a folder on the table. "Wanna see?"

"Get those away from me," Brian cried, pushing the pictures Elliot took from the folder aside.

Elliot nodded. "Well, at least you don't take pride in your brutality. Good for you."

"I didn't do that!"

"Brian, Brian, Brian," Elliot droned. "Spencer says differently. He destroyed your entire record collection. He doesn't respect you. You got mad. That's understandable."

"No," Brian protested.

"There's a witness."

"Spencer's lying. He's always making things up. And Melissa doesn't know what she's talking about. She's just a little kid."

"The kid's lying-there's an excuse we never heard before. Hey Liv, let's let him go, the kid's lying," Elliot said patronizingly. Olivia didn't respond. Her mind was somewhere else. She was supposed to play along, make the suspect nervous. Elliot moved along trying not to think about Olivia.

Stabler continued to grill Brian Greene without any help from his partner. "What? You can't do that!" Brian shrieked in response to one of Elliot's threats. "Could he really do that?" He asked turning to Olivia. She didn't respond once again. "Hey lady!"

"What?" Olivia answered realizing she was being addressed.

Elliot gave her a disapproving look. "Detective Benson, could I speak with you for a moment?"

Olivia stood up with a long sigh. She knew where this was going.

"What's going on?" Elliot asked once they stepped outside.

"Nothing. I'm just a little distracted," she answered shrinking back from him. She didn't know why, but he made her feel so small. As if she was a little kid being scolded.

"Please Olivia, just tell me what is going on with you lately," he pleaded.

"Nothing," she insisted.

He nodded angrily. "Nothing? Nothing-that's all I've heard from you this whole week. I some how doubt its nothing. I've never seen you be so unprofessional during an interview," he roared. She looked hurt. Elliot took a deep breath and adjusted his tone. "I want to help you Liv, I really do, but you gotta let me know how."

It was getting harder and harder to turn away his concern. Part of her wanted to just break down and tell him everything. But the more logical part told her to hold herself together and get over it. It was better that he didn't know, that no one did. She was starting to think her logic might be wrong. If this was the right thing to do why did it feel so wrong? Why did it hurt so much? She wasn't getting over it. _Tell him, you'll feel better_, something inside her screamed.

She coped out. "I don't need any help. Nothing's wrong." She leaned back on one leg and crossed her arms over her chest. "I can't be distracted every once in a while?" She couldn't tell him. Not today. What would she say anyway? _Hey, guess what happened to me? _No._ This is best_, she told herself.

"Of course you can," he answered. "But this is more than that." His voice was soft again.

"Don't make a big deal out of nothing."

"Nothing-there it is again." He started to walk away but quickly turned back to her. Now he was pissed. "Why did you even bother coming in today if you're just gonna act like a child?"

"Leave me alone Elliot!" Who was he to yell at her? Couldn't he see this isn't the time?

"Well, I'd be better off in there alone."

"Fine! Go!" She turned and walked out of the squad room in a huff. What was it about each of them that got the other so fired up?

TBC...most likely.


	4. Chapter Four

_**A.N. Ok, just to be clear, this story has been going backwards. The events in this chapter took place before those in the previous chapter, which took place before the chapter before that, etc.. Sorry, if I wasn't clear before. The proper sequence of events would be ch4, ch3, ch2, then ch1.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews, please continue. **_

**_This is the weekend before the week discussed in chapter 3._**

"Could I get you another, Olivia?" the bartender asked smiling down at her. He was a towering man with soft green eyes. His giant-like stature clashed drastically with his charismatic demeanor. He made the perfect bartender. Tough, yet friendly. Olivia nodded, returning the smile. She came here frequently and occasionally he would strike up a conversation with her. He seemed like a nice man.

A neatly dressed dark haired woman approached her and took the seat besides her. "God, I had to walk two blocks just to get a damn signal." She shoved her cell phone back in her purse.

"This must be a dead zone," Olivia suggested. "What are you gonna do?" she sighed.

The woman took a long sip of her drink before slamming the empty glass on the bar. "Well, I finally reached the sitter. Charlie's throwing up all over the place."

"How pleasant," Olivia joked, knowing where this was going.

The woman started to pull on her jacket. "I'm sorry, Liv. I hate to do this to you, but I gotta get home."

"No, Jenny," Olivia returned shaking her head. "I understand." She did, and she wasn't upset. As a single person she had come to expect this from her friends with children. Your children_ should_ always come first. She wished someone had told her mother that when she was a kid.

Jenny took some bills from her purse and threw them on the bar. "I really am sorry. I'll call you tomorrow. We'll reschedule."

"Yeah." Olivia smiled. "You're not driving, are you?" she called as Jenny started to make her way through the crowed bar.

Jenny turned around. "No, detective," she answered with a smirk. "I'm gonna hail a cab." Olivia nodded, then waved her off with a laugh. Jenny was an old friend from college and it had become routine for them to go for drinks every once in awhile to keep up with each other's hectic lives.

"Here you go, Beautiful," the bartender said placing her drink in front of her.

Olivia turned her attention from the noisy group of college students in the corner to the bartender. "Thanks Dan."

"Where's your friend?"

"She had to go," Olivia answered sipping her drink.

Dan smiled. "Well, I guess its just you and me, Gorgeous." He untied his apron and threw it under the counter. "Guess what? My shift just ended," he said coming out from behind the bar with a grin. "Mind if I join you?"

Olivia laughed, again bringing her glass to her lips. Dan was always flirtatious, but not in a rude offensive way. "No. Not at all." He sat down beside her, where Jenny had earlier.

"Well," he started as he leaned toward her, "how are you tonight?"

"I'm good. You?"

"Can't complain. So, what do you do?" he asked next. "You never mentioned it before. And you already know what my job is."

She smiled and circled the rim of her glass with her finger-  
tip. "What do you think I do?" she asked coyly. She wasn't interested in him, he wasn't her type, but she figured there was no harm in flirting. Frankly, she enjoyed the ego-stroking. It was always nice to have someone interested in you.

Dan squinted his eyes at her. "I don't know," he finally said.

"Oh come on, you're not even trying," she laughed.

They continued to talk for a few minutes. He never guessed what she did, so she never told him. When she finished her drink she pushed her chair back and stood up. A sudden shot of pain rushed to her head. She brought her hand to her head and took a wobbly step back. "Whoa," she mumbled. Dan quickly rose and put his hand on her back to steady her. "I think that last one went straight to my head," she said. She didn't think she had that much to drink, but she had been there for quite a while now and wasn't really keeping track. To add to the matter she hadn't eaten since noon. "It was nice talking to you, but I think I'm going to head home."

Dan helped her with her jacket. "All right." She started to search through her bag. "No, no. It's on the house."

"Thanks," she said with a soft smile.

He looked her over for a moment. "You know, I'm on my way out too. Why don't I walk you home? Its late and this ain't exactly the safest city in the world."

"That's not necessary," she insisted.

"Please. I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you." He looked at her with his huge puppy dog eyes and pouted.

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Fine." He was so charming she couldn't bring herself to refuse the offer.

* * *

"You live close?" he asked once they started walking.

Olivia nodded. "Three blocks."

"Not bad." He racked his brain for something to say. "Been in the city all your life?" She nodded again. Her head was hurting and she didn't feel like talking much. Dan continued to make small talk as they walked.

"This is me," Olivia said stopping in front of her building.

"Oh." There was an awkward silence. Olivia wasn't sure what he expected her to do.

"Well thanks," she finally said extending her hand. He shook it absently.

"Sure, no problem." She started to walk into the building. "Hey," Dan called just before she reached the front door. She turned around. "Do you think I could use your bathroom? I got kind of a long commute back to my place."

Olivia hesitated. She didn't really know this man and would never let a stranger into her home. Then again, she had spent quite a bit of time talking with him, and she didn't want to be rude. She couldn't tell him no after he had been so nice to her. "Of course," she answered although not completely sure it was a good idea. "Come on up." Dan smiled and followed her into the building.

* * *

"Thanks," Dan said emerging from the bathroom. Olivia was sitting on the couch.

"No problem." She got up to let him out.

"Um," Dan started, "if it's not to much trouble, could I have a glass of water?"

Olivia looked at him strangely. _The nerve of some people_, she thought. "Sure." She went into the kitchen to fetch the water. When she returned he was sitting on the couch looking at a magazine that she had tossed on the coffee table earlier. "Here you go," she said handing him the glass. He patted the cushion next to him playfully and she reluctantly sat down. _I should have been rude_, she thought.

Dan took a sip of the water before placing it on the table. "You got a nice place here," he said looking around. She nodded, wishing he would just leave. Her headache was getting worse. There was a brief pause. Dan grinned and put his hand on her knee. "So," he began lowly. Olivia immediately shoved it off.

"Its late. I think you should go." She started to get up but he grabbed her wrist.

He smiled. The smile that was charming and cute before was now terrifying and creepy. "Where you going?" He pulled her down and leaned over her.

"No, Dan. Knock it off." She tried to pull her arm back from him, but he had a firm grip on her wrist. His lips brushed over hers and she started to struggle harder. "Get off of me," she said firmly, trying to sit up. Instantly she was reminded of her of the few drinks she had earlier. A wicked sort of pain shot to her head, causing her to fall back. "Stop!" she demanded.

Dan held her shoulder down with one hand. "Come on baby," he whispered as his other hand explored her body. She tried to move, get out from under him, but she couldn't. She was laying flat on the couch with the brunt of his weight on top her. When she started to push at him, he took her hands and pinned them to the top of the couch. With one strong hand he was able to hold both of hers so that she couldn't move them at all.

"No! Stop it!" she shrieked realizing what was about to happen. He didn't. Her stomach was turning, the sickness rising. He continued to touch her till his free hand finally made its way to her pants. He fumbled with the buttons. "No! Don't!" She jerked her body about frantically, managing to knee him in the groin.

"Damn it!" he cried, slapping her across the face. Her cheek burned from the impact of his hand. "Shut up and don't move." He tugged her jeans and panties down. This was the man she once thought of as sweet?

"Please, don't do this," she pleaded as she writhed under him. He hit her again, this time across the mouth. How did it come to this? How did he so quickly reduce her to begging?

Now he started to undo his own pants. "No. Don't, please." The words came tumbling out of her mouth with desperation. She didn't want to upset him and risk getting hit again, but she couldn't censor herself. Tears started to flow. She couldn't stop him. He was too strong. He took hold of her hands again. This time pinning one on each side of her head. With one quick painful motion he was inside her. She gasped sharply and shut her eyes tight. "Stop," she cried. "Please, stop."

Dan ignored her cries and her begging. He moved inside her with a steady pace, thrusting himself into her forcefully. He wore a dazed look across his face. Like he was in the _zone_, unaware of what was going on around him. Like he was indifferent to her pain.

She gave up struggling and pleading. It was no use. She was completely immobilized. The only sounds now were her whimpering and his grunting. She kept her eyes closed, trying to think about something else, anything else. _Don't focus on the pain, the humiliation, the violation. It's almost over, _she kept telling herself. It felt like she was telling herself that forever.

Finally Dan let out one last deep grunt and she felt him finish. The possibilities filled her mind. AIDS? STDs? Pregnancy? She pushed the thoughts aside. She would worry about that later, if there would be a later. What was he going to do now?

She opened her eyes to see him sitting back, smiling down at her, like he had done in the bar. She wanted to vomit. He leaned forward. She pulled her head back, wincing, preparing herself for the worst. His lips pressed against hers and his hand traveled through her hair. She started to gag. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or his tongue in her mouth that was making her nauseous.

Then, just as quickly as he had gotten on top of her, he pulled himself off her. She lay perfectly still as he zipped his pants up, took a swig of the water she had brought him and let himself out. She stood up and started towards the door. She locked the door and went into the bedroom.

Now alone in her apartment, Olivia sat on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest and crying. She couldn't believe it. After all her years working in SVU, after pissing off dozens of rapists and psychopaths, after being threatened by some of the sickest bastards out there, it was the friendly bartender that did it. _How ironic_, she thought with disgust.

The thoughts, regrets and questions swam through her mind._ Why didn't I see through his act? I let him into my apartment. What the hell was I thinking? He was nice. Nice? How did he fool me? How could I be so stupid? And he got up like nothing had happened. I'm suppose to be strong. This isn't suppose to happen to me. I'm a freaking cop, damn it! How could I let this happen? Why? _

_**P.S. This might be the final chapter because there's really nowhere else to go...at least not working backwards. If I do continue, I'd probably shift back into the present and go from after chapter one. Ok, I know, I'm getting all crazy here. Sorry. Let me know what you think. Please review. **_


	5. Chapter Five

**A.N. Sorry it has taken me so long to update. As suggested I shifted back to the present-after their conversation on the rooftop(ch1). Please review. **

As Detective Olivia Benson steps out of the 16th precinct and onto the grimy city sidewalk the ominous grey New York sky opens up with a roar of thunder. She tilts her head back with a thin smile and welcomes the rain. There's something about a rainy summer night she finds terribly nostalgic. Her mind travels back to the summer after the tenth grade. She sees herself and her "first love", Jack, sitting on a bench in Central Park. Jack takes off his jacket, held it over the both of them protectively and told her he loved her. Another threatening crack of thunder brings Olivia back to the present. She shakes her head with a slight grin, tucks her head down and faces the downpour head-on.

She enters her apartment with a long yawn, unable to avoid her pressing exhaustion. It's been a long day. Throwing her keys on the coffee table, she starts to flip through the mail she just picked up. Bill, junk, bill, bill. She rolls her eyes, ignoring the urgency of the _final notice_ warnings, and tosses the unopened envelopes next to her keys. She'll get to them, eventually.

She takes a quick shower and changes into sweat pants and a tank top.Next, she flops down on the couch and turns the television on. For the first time all week she's home before ten.

Elliot was right-he was better off doing the interrogation alone. After her less than professional interview with Brian Greene, she stormed out of the squad. Elliot chased after her like she was a child who couldn't run off alone. She returned to do some paperwork, but wouldn't dare make another attempt at the interrogation. She had embarrassed herself enough for one day.   
Elliot completed it quickly and effectively. After convincing Greene it was in his best interest to admit his guilt, the gutless child abuser confessed. Without saying another word to her partner, Olivia finished what she had to and then headed up to the roof. She needed to clear her head, or maybe just get away from it all. Of course, he had to come after her. He couldn't leave things alone. He probably regrets it now, she thinks.

After a few minutes of shouting and accusing she walked away from him. The damage to their relationship done. Their feelings towards each other altered. This time he didn't come after her. She wonders if they have reached a breaking point. If that was it for them. If they finally buckled under all the stress in their relationship. She knows they have come close in the past, but they always managed to rebound. This time felt different though. It stung a little bit too much. Maybe they went too far. Despite what she said to him, what she accused him of, she still wanted him in her life. She still expected him to come after her. She can't help feeling alone. She glances at the door with disappointment.

She sits, starring at the television, but couldn't tell you what she was watching. Mentally she is back on that rooftop. His words are fresh in her mind. Why did she have to act like that? Why did she have to push away the one person in her life who truly cared about her?

She knows he didn't mean to say that. She could see it in his eyes. He was shocked and frustrated. His intentions were good. They always are. Elliot Stabler is a good man.

But Olivia Benson could be a stubborn brat sometimes. She was too proud. Why didn't she just accept his help. He wanted to help her through this. But his concern, his insistence that she wasn't alright, although accurate, only made her angry. It made her feel weak and incapable. And she had enough of those feelings for one week. Elliot was just the unfortunate target of her frustration and rage. He was the only one she felt comfortable enough around to show any type of emotion, no matter how disagreeable.

But she was angry, and rightfully so. He could be so condescending. Still, the whole thing is just one huge mess she wishes she didn't have to deal with. With a heavy sigh, she brings her legs up on the couch, hugs them to her chest and rests her head on her knees.

A week has passed since that night and there is no change in her. She still felt weak and stupid. Broken and humiliated. Scared and alone. She impatiently awaits the moment when things will be back to normal, although deep down she knows it will never come. _Weren't things suppose to get better with time? Time heals everything. What delusional optimistic moron came up with that? _she wonders. Granted a week wasn't that much time, but still isn't she due for a break.

He shouldn't feel like this. He should be happy. He just sent a vicious child abuser to jail, where he'll never be able to hurt another kid again. But the feeling of accomplishment takes a backseat to the consuming regret he simply can't shake.

Elliot finds himself driving aimlessly around the city, repeatedly passing her apartment. He drives slowly, wary of the slick wet roads. Not even in his distraught condition can he bring himself to be reckless. It's been an hour since he left work but he's been unable to work up the courage to talk to her. He will. He knows he has to. He can't leave things like this.

"_When did you stop believing in me?"_ He recalls her sharp words and practically winces. _Never!_ He wants to shout it. He could never, and he would never, stop believing in her. He would never give up on her.

He knows he made a mistake. A huge one. He knows that his respect and admiration for his partner translated into disappointment and disbelief. He only said that because he thinks so highly of her of. Because he knows her true strength. Because he couldn't believe something like that happened to someone like her. He knows its not about her-its never about the victim. That bastard, whoever he was, would have been able to overpower most women. Men are physically stronger than women. It's a simple fact. Olivia was a victim, just like the women whose cases he worked.

Still, he didn't mean it. He wasn't sure exactly what he meant, just that he never meant to hurt her. Of course she didn't let it happen. It was a momentary lapse. For a second his mouth broke away from his mind. It was a simple slip that wasn't caught on time. However, it was a costly one. That simple slip could be the downfall of perhaps his most vital relationship.

A loud blaring sound brings him out of his daze. He turns his head to look at the car honking its horn behind him. Returning his eyes to the road ahead he realizes the light has changed. He squints his eyes at the tiny green spot and presses his foot lightly on the gas pedal. He turns the corner and heads back to her building. There's no time like the present.

TBC...


	6. Chapter Six

**A.N. Sorry for the delay in updating. I honestly never expected this to turn into a multi-chapter fiction, so I'm kind of just writing when something comes to me. This chapter picks up right after the last. Enjoy. **

**Thanks for the reviews, please continue.**

The steady sound of rain drops hitting the ground brings Olivia to the window. It is no use trying to relax with that incessant noise just outside. She never minded the rain, she even enjoys it sometimes, but not when she was trying to shut the world out. The patter causes her head to throb and keeps her nerves on edge. She had almost fallen asleep on the couch. After a week of restless nights it doesn't surprise her. After letting out a long yawn and groggily rubbing her tired eyes, she leans back against the wall besides the window. A blanket rests lazily on her shoulders, her arms are loosely folded across her chest, and her eyes gaze out into the night.

Suddenly, Olivia gasps and takes a step backwards, clutching the ends of the blanket tightly. She squints her eyes to get a clearer picture. She sees him standing across the street from her apartment. Her heart beat quickens, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. The pounding grows so loud it blocks out the sound of the television in the background.

He stands perfectly still, rain drops beating down on him, feet plated firmly on the wet concrete, arms hanging at either side, mouth curled into an ugly growl, eyes peering into the window. His eyes pierce her body like daggers, but he doesn't move. Olivia closes her eyes, shakes her head and looks again. She sees no one. She tilts her head in confusion. Once again she narrows her eyes and focuses on the spot her rapist occupied seconds ago. She sighs heavily, turning away from the window.

"God, this has to stop," she mutters lowly to herself. She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head again. She's been seeing him all week. Her mind has been playing tricks on her. Knowing that she won't be able to sleep tonight she takes a seat at the kitchen table. One hand reaches for the bottle in the center of the table. If only she could forget, even if its only temporarily. She rolls it between her hands, starring hard at it, before putting it down. _That's what brought this on,_ she thinks. A mix of guilt and disgust settles in the pit of her stomach. Still, she fights the urge. She doesn't want to take the same path that led her mother to destruction. She won't be like that. She was never one for taking the easy way out. _You have to face your problems head on, _she reminds herself.

She takes a deep breath and blows the air out of her cheeks in frustration. She wonders when this will all be over. She doesn't want to be afraid anymore, she wants to be as strong as she had people fooled into believing she was. She can't wait to get her life back on track. _Why can't I get over this? _she asks herself as she cradles her head in her hands. .

She knows the chance of things returning to normal are slim, especially since he's still out there. She can't get closure knowing she could run into him at any time. He knows where she lives and by now he knows she hasn't gone to the police. What's to stop him from coming back? The thought, which has been in the back of her head consistently for the last week, brings a slight shiver to her body. She's no longer sure if she made the right decision. Maybe she should report it.

The sound of the buzzer startles her. She glances at the wall clock. It could be only one person at this time and in this weather. Slowly she rises and shuffles over to the intercom. "Elliot." she says into the speaker.

Downstairs in the lobby of Olivia's apartment a rather soaked Elliot smiles. "How did you know it was me?" he asks, impressed with his friend's intuition.

"Who else would it be?" she returns flatly. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice. She presses the button to let him up and walks away from the intercom. A couple of minutes later he knocks on her door.

Olivia unlocks all three locks and pulls the door open in silence. She steps back and waits for him to enter. Then she closes and locks the door, barely making eye contact with her partner in the process. "Hi," Elliot says once safely inside Olivia's apartment.

Finally Olivia lifts her head and brings her eyes to meet his. Instantly he could see the pain. "Hi," she replies leading him deeper into the apartment. Her voice is low and unfamiliar. "You want a drink or something?" she asks unsure of what else to say.

Elliot shakes his head. "No. No thank you." They stand in awkward silence, facing each other, for a few moments. Their eyes lock and square off in an icy battle, searching each other's face. Unable to stand his scrutinizing gaze, Olivia accepts defeat and lowers her eyes to the floor. After her confession earlier she feels exposed enough for one day.

"Ell-" she starts, breaking the silence.

"Liv," he interrupts. He has to say this, and he has to do it now before it eats him alive. She pauses, shifts her weight from one leg to another and waits for him to continue. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that." She's silent. "You have to believe me," he pleads placing his right hand over his heart and stepping closer to her. "I know you, Liv. I care about you more than you could ever imagine. I would never say or do anything to hurt you. Of course you didn't let it happen. I just didn't want to accept what happened to you. Its not your fault Olivia. Please. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that. It was a mistake. That's not what I think. You have to know that. I could never stop believing in you. I think the world of you Liv. I'm sorry. I'm really sor-"

"I know," she interrupts his rambling.

"You know?" he returns. Her words shock him. He didn't even expect her to let him in. He thought he would have to beg her just to listen.

Olivia licks her lips and shoves her hands in her pockets. "I know you didn't mean that. And I know you don't really think that. I'm sorry I acted like that. I've just been-"

"Liv, don't you dare apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was me. Okay? I'm so sorry-and not just about what I said. I'm sorry you have to go through this and I'm sorry you thought you had to do it alone." He takes another step towards her. "Look, I know you're independent and that you never needed anyone to do anything, but you don't have to do _this_ alone. I'm here for you Liv, and I'm not going anywhere."

Olivia nods her head. "So, did you practice that little speech?" she asks with a grin.

"No, came up with that on the spot," he answers with a small chuckle. He walks over to the couch and sits down. "You're watching The Real World?" he asks looking at the television in disbelief.

Olivia sits besides him. "I don't know. Am I?" she responds.

"Didn't know you were so into MTV," Elliot teases.

"Didn't know you even knew what MTV is," she returns with a smirk.

Elliot leans back with a laugh. "I have four kids."

"I'll change the channel Mr. Picky," she says taking the remote in her hand. Elliot watches his partner as she flips through the channels. Her face is not as tense as it has been all week, although she still looks tired.

A feeling of relief washes over Elliot. He was sure he had done permanent damage to his and Olivia's relationship. He never expected her to accept his apology so easily. He had planned to grovel, to forsake all pride and beg her to forgive him, to explain himself till he ran out of words. However, she allowed him back into her life easily and surprisingly without much begging or explaining. He realizes its probably because, although she may want to, she can't afford to push away the ones who care about her. In her own way she's admitting she needs him. She's finally allowing herself to be seen as human, not weak or vulnerable, just human.

"There's nothing on," Olivia finally announces. She throws the remote to Elliot. "You find something." Although it may take a while for things to fully get back to normal between them, she instantly feels comfortable and safe besides him..

Elliot starts to flip through the channels. "You know, I wasn't sure you'd be up," he says without taking his eyes off the television.

"I can't sleep."

Elliot turns the television off and looks at his partner. "You wanna talk about it?"

**P.S. I know this is a weird spot to leave it at but I just wanted to get a new chapter posted as quickly as possible.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**_A.N. Sorry for the delay. Please review. Thanks._**

Olivia takes a deep breath as she pulls her legs up onto the couch and folds them under her body. "I don't know, Elliot," she begins hesitantly. Her fingers explore the beaded throw pillow in her lap nervously. Elliot observes his friend's demeanor intently. She closes her eyes, tilts her head back till it rests on top of the couch and exhales. He is silently hoping she feels comfortable enough to open up to him. However, he knows he can't push her. It has to be her decision. Still, he needs to know what happened. Mostly, he needs to know who violated the strongest person he knows.

"If you don't want to it's okay," he offers after a brief pause.

"No, it's okay," she replies shaking her head. "Its okay," she repeats as if to reassure herself. She takes a deep breath and prepares herself to speak. All week, no matter how much she told herself she didn't need anyone, she longed to tell someone. And despite her initial reluctance it was a relief when Elliot found out. She wants to share this with her best friend. She needs him to help her through it, to carry some of the weight.

Elliot anxiously waits for his partner to share the most traumatic event of her life. He wonders if he should do or say something. Maybe offer a kind gesture or an encouraging word. However, he's uncharacteristically at a lost for words. Nothing seems appropriate.

"I can't get it out of my head," she finally says. Her voice is tired and soft. Her dark eyes meet his. Elliot gives her an assuring look and patiently waits for her to continue. "Its like someone tattooed his face on the inside of my eye lids. I close my eyes and he's there. I keep reliving it. I see him all the time. I'm having nightmares. I can't sleep at night," she goes on turning away from him. "Just being here, in this apartment, on this couch, is hard."

"It happened here?" Elliot asks. He looks down at what had previously been an ordinary white sofa but was now tainted by violence and violation and adjusts his body. A sick feeling starts to creep into the pit of his stomach and he battles his mind to keep the images at bay.

Olivia gives a weak affirmative nod. "He said he needed to use to bathroom. I didn't want to be rude. I thought he was nice. I can't believe I was so stupid." Elliot recognizes the pattern of speech Olivia employs. For the first time she sounds like a victim. Her voice low. Her tone guilty. Her gaze distant. Her manner sheepish. The words spill out of her mouth without her usual gracefulness. She shifts in her seat nervously, clasping and unclasping her hands, fidgeting with a pillow in her lap. Despite her cautious effort she can't manage to sound composed. Victims rarely can.

"Liv," he starts softly. "Its not your fault." Instantly he regrets saying that. She deserves more than tired cliches and insincere lines. And now, despite his best attempt to avoid treating his partner like a typical victim, he offers her the same line he routinely uses in the role of detective to comfort numerous broken and battered women. He hopes she doesn't pick up on the connection because the last thing he wants is for her to see him as a cold distant detective instead of the supportive friend he wants to be.

She nods and closes her eyes, trying her best to hide the tears that have formed. She throws her head back with a sigh hoping to restrain the threatening tears. "I know," she mutters meekly, overlooking the non-comforting cliche he has just thrown at her. She always wondered if the lines they so often use on victims actually work. Now she knows. "I always figured that if it happened it would be connected to a case or something. Some collar seeking revenge," she says with a roll of her eyes. "And after all the threats and close encounters, after all the unnecessary concern and surveillance from the rest of the squad," she says glancing at him, "it was completely unrelated." She shakes her head in confusion, unable to comprehend why or how this happened.

Elliot remains silent. He doesn't know what to say. He always thought along the same lines he now knows she did. He figured if she would be harmed in that way it would have something to do with her job. And for that reason he kept an eye on her when they worked. He didn't do it to be condescending or chauvinistic. He really did care for her. Furthermore, he knew there was always a chance that a case could get out of hand. They routinely dealt with sick deranged psychopaths. How could he not be a little paranoid? Of course he was going to do everything in his power to protect her, no matter how much she hated it. Now, in some sense he feels he has failed her. He had been so concerned with the risks of being a female sex crimes detectives that he had overlooked the risks of simply being a woman.

Olivia throws her hands down in frustration. "I just can't believe I fell for it. He seemed nice," she says rolling her eyes. "I actually told myself that afterwards. As if that could justify it."

"Olivia," Elliot finally speaks.

He's ready to take another crack at the comforting thing, but before he has a chance to she interrupts him. "No Elliot, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear how it wasn't my fault, or how its not about what I did. And that he had the physical advantage." Her voice is strong for the first time all night. "Okay, I know what they teach us. I took the classes too. And I know there was probably nothing I could do to stop it while it was happening, but I should have been able to prevent it. I shouldn't have put myself in that situation. I know the difference between safe and unsafe situations. I should have seen through him. I never should have let him into my apartment." Her eyes fall to the floor with a frustrated shake of her head. "My judgment was off and I suffered the consequences."

"No, you're wrong. God, you're so wrong." He wonders briefly is he should be so direct with her after all she's been through. He quickly pushes the doubt aside. She may have been raped but she's still the same strong willed woman he has worked along side for years. He won't sugar-coat things for her, he won't treat her any differently. He owes that to her. "Do you hear yourself Liv? What happened to you has nothing to do with _your _judgment. That man, whoever he is, would have found a way to get what he wanted. There was no way you could have seen him for what he was, and there was no way you could have known what was going to happen. No one has that ability. I know that with hindsight it feels like you could have done something differently, but you can't. You have to live your life in the present and you have to trust yourself. You got hurt Liv, and you have no idea how much I wish that wasn't the case, but there was nothing you could have done. Okay? I know you don't want to hear it, but we say it for a reason. This wasn't your fault."

She lets his words sink in, even tries to believe him. Maybe he is right, it's not her fault, but that doesn't change the way she feels. She shouldn't have put herself in that situation-that's her bottom line. She's not blaming herself for what happened, just for allowing it to happen. Still, she bites her tongue and elects not to counter Elliot's big speech. She knows her thinking doesn't make much sense and its not worth articulating to someone as self-righteous as him. Elliot has always been the poster boy for personal conviction, which is one of the things she admires about him. He stood for what he stood for and there was little room for interpretation. He has his beliefs and moral code, both of which had conveniently came in the package of his religion. She, on the other hand, has no such package and is therefore left to evaluate and deal with each situation as it arose. She has no choice but to let her feelings and instincts guide her. No matter how self-deprecating they were.

Elliot studies his partner carefully debating whether or not to ask the question that has been burning inside him. She catches him in his gaze and gives a questioning look. Now, under the pressure of her lingering eyes he can't avoid it. "Who is he?" he finally asks.

Olivia licks her lips and runs a hand through her hair. She doesn't look shocked by his question. In fact she almost seems to have expected it. "Does it matter?" she answers after long consideration. She's more than familiar with her partner's volatile personality and doesn't want to be the cause of his inevitable rash, yet admirable, behavior.

He locks eyes with her and searches her face for a moment. "No," he finally says with a small smile. He sees her concern for him and decides not to push the matter.

She returns the look. "His name's Danny. He bartends nights at Mike's Tavern."

Elliot doesn't respond verbally. He simply nods and stores the information. He knows the place. In fact, he probably has seen the guy before.

"Don't do anything stupid," she warns throwing the pillow at him playfully.

His blue eyes sparkle and his lips widen into an innocent grin. He shows his hands in mock surrender."You wanna grab something to eat?" There's more to be said, more to find out, but he decides to give it a rest.

Olivia unfolds her legs and stands up. "Sure." Elliot watches her as she grabs her keys and hand bad. "Ready?"

He nods and stands up, following her to the door. "I think the rain let up," he notes.

"Yeah?" she returns. "Too bad."

"You like the rain?" he asks with a laugh of disbelief.

"Sometimes." She locks the door and looks up at him with a smile. "Its serene."

"You call flooding and falling trees serene?"

Olivia laughs. "I hate you."

* * *

"How bout the pizzeria?" Elliot asks leading her to the right. She had suggested they just walk to somewhere close. "Its open pretty late." They stand outside on the wet sidewalk in front of Olivia's apartment. The streets are unusually calm. Only the sound of the occasional passing car can be heard.

Olivia takes a step back. "No," she cries abruptly. "Let's just go to the dinner down the block."

"Okay." Elliot starts in the other direction. As they walk in silence he realizes that the pizzeria he suggested is just past Mike's Tavern. He chides himself for his thoughtlessness and makes a mental note to take a little walk that way later on. He quickens his pace to match Olivia's.


	8. Chapter Eight

* * *

"This _is_ chicken, right?" Elliot asks scrunching his face in mild disgust at the plate of food in front of him.

Olivia smiles and narrows her eyes at the man sitting across from her. "So, it's not like the high class eateries you're accustomed to," she replies, pointing a fork at him playfully. "But its food."

"High class eateries?" he returns with amusement. "I'm lucky if I get a table at Applebee's." Olivia laughs and lowers her head. Her eyes scan the food in front of her. She has eaten here plenty of times with no problem, but now just the smell of the food is making her sick.

The small dimly lit diner is almost empty. A few patrons dine quietly. Waiters shuffle busily across the floor, from the kitchen to the various tables, balancing plates of food in their hands. The lack of noise makes Olivia feel incredibly self-conscious, like every move or sound she makes is under public scrutiny. Finally giving up, Olivia sighs and pushes the plate aside. Elliot frowns at her.

"Liv, you should eat," he tells her seriously.

"Don't Elliot. I'm an adult."

"I know," he returns. "I just...you should...I'm just worried about you."

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Well, don't be."

"Easier said then done," he says with a grin. "Although," he starts to poke his food with his fork, "I don't blame you for not wanting to eat this." He brings his fork to his mouth with an unsure look.

Elliot finishes his meal as Olivia sips a glass of water. "I thought this food was disgusting?" she asks with a smirk. She folds her arms across her chest and leans back.

"It is." Elliot wipes his face with a cloth napkin and leans back, placing his hand over his full stomach.

"That didn't stop you from cleaning your plate," she points out.

He shrugs. "I was hungry. Besides my mother always said to finish everything on your plate."

"I didn't know mothers actually said things like that."

"What?" Elliot looks at her in shock. "Your mother didn't tell you to never leave the house without clean underwear, or that if you sit too close to the TV you'll go blind."

Olivia shakes her head with a slight smile. "My mother wasn't like other mothers."

"Sorry," Elliot whispers. He lowers his eyes with shame. He wasn't even thinking about her issues with her mother.

"Don't be," Olivia says simply. "So how are the kids?"

Elliot nods, acknowledging the deliberate change of subject. "Good," he starts.

They continue to talk for another twenty minutes before the waiter places a check on the table. "Will there be anything else?" the waiter asks.

"No, that's all," Elliot answers. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Olivia goes for her bag. "I got it." He waves her off and throws some bills on the table.

"No Elliot," she protests, taking the check. "It's on me." Before he has a chance to put up a fight, Olivia speaks up again. "Please, El, I owe you. Just let me do this."

Elliot takes a long look at his partner. "You don't owe me anything, but if you insist."

"I do." She quickly pays the bill and stands up. "You ready?"

* * *

The two partners start the walk home in silence. "What's up with you?" Olivia finally asks her partner after about a half of a block.

Elliot shakes his head and burrows his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Nothing."

"No. It's definitely something. You're being too quiet. And you have that look."

"What look?" he returns lightly.

"_That_ look. Like you wanna say something but don't know if you should. Come on Elliot, just spit it out."

He stops walking and turns to face her. Olivia stops walking also, anxiously awaiting for her partner to speak. His eyes fall on her with seriousness unmatched for the night. "Why don't you report it, Liv?" he finally says.

Olivia sighs and lowers her eyes. "I already told you, Elliot. It won't go anywhere. No ADA would ever try a case like that. I just don't see the point of putting myself through all that when I already know the outcome."

"Liv, you don't know how it will turn out. I understand that you're scared but you'll have the whole squad behind you." His eyes plead with her. He can't understand how she could live knowing this man is still out there. It's been eating him alive and he wasn't even the one victimized.

"I don't want the whole squad behind me," she insists. "Don't you understand?" she cries. "I don't want anyone to know. I don't need them thinking I can't take care of myself."

He takes a step closer to her. "No one would ever think that about you, Olivia," he states firmly. "They care about you. We all care about you."

"Why? Cause I'm just a helpless woman?" she spits coldly.

Elliot shakes his head, unfazed by her harsh tone. "Because you're family."

Olivia considers his words. "Just drop it Elliot." She starts to walk again.

"Would you ever tell a victim to just drop it?" Suddenly her feet stop moving. She turns back to face him. "Would you ever tell them to just forget it ever happened like you're doing?"

"No. This is different," she counters.

"How?"

Olivia brings her eyes to meet his. He could see the tears forming. "I just can't," she says quietly.

* * *

Three nights later Olivia lies in her bed still thinking about what Elliot had said that night coming home from the diner. _Was she any different from other victims?_ _Was she weaker because she couldn't face what happened to her? She told women every day to fight for justice, but she couldn't even bring herself to report it. Did that make her a hypocrite?_ As she writhes restlessly under the covers, she struggles to come to terms with her feelings. The guilt, anger, loneliness, and fear run freely through her mind.

Finally, as her heavy eyelids slowly fall shut and she slips into a soft slumber, a loud ringing sound disturbs the stillness of the room. Startled, Olivia scrambles to sit up and reaches for her gun before realizing that the sound is coming from her cell phone. She takes a deeps breath and tries to calm herself down.

"Benson," she says into the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible. She listens carefully. Quickly she dresses and leaves her apartment. Another case. Another victim.

* * *

The address she was given isn't far but nighttime road work delays her. When she does finally reaches it she sees Elliot standing in front of the apartment building.

"I beat you here," he says with a grin. "All the way from Queens."

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Its not a race. Besides I got stuck in traffic."

"At two-thirty in the morning?" he asks skeptically.

"They're re-paving the streets."

He nods. "Still, you gotta admit my driving skills are pretty impressive."

She shakes her head and moves onto the case. "So what do you know?"

"Just what they told me. Thirty year old woman says she was raped in her apartment," he answers.

"Break-in?" Olivia inquires.

Elliot shakes his head. "Acquaintance. She let him in." Olivia stops for a moment. Her own painful memories flood her head. "You gonna be okay?"

Olivia sucks in air and nods. "Fine."

They flash their badges and introduce themselves to the uniformed officers in front of the victim's door. The uniforms return the greeting. "Vic's name is Dawn Hawkins," one of the officers tell them. The officers quickly divulge all the facts already known to the two detectives.

"Thanks," Elliot replies as he steps past them and into the apartment of Dawn Hawkins. Olivia follows, offering a simple nod to the uniforms.

Olivia scans the room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. She looks at the couch and sees the pillows are askew. And on the coffee table is a half empty glass of water. She figures the attack must have taken place there. Finally she brings her eyes across the small apartment to see a light haired woman sitting at the kitchen table. She looks relatively unharmed, although her hair and make up is messed up. Olivia stands in the middle of the room lost in the darkness of her own memories.

Noticing his partner's hesitation and hoping to give Olivia a moment to collect herself, Elliot approaches the victim alone. "Dawn, I'm Detective Stabler," he begins softly, "and this is my partner Detective Benson." At the sound of her name Olivia snaps out of her daze and walks over to the two. "Could you tell us what happened?"

Dawn looks up at the pair briefly. Tears make their way down her already tear-stained cheeks. "He seemed like a nice guy," she mutters in a meek voice. Olivia looks down at her with unimaginable understanding. "I said no but he wouldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop," she goes on without making eye contact. Olivia fights the urge to flee the room and cry. She must stand strong.

"Do you know the man who attacked you Miss Hawkins?" Elliot questions.

Dawn nods and looks at the detectives again. "His name is Dan. I don't know his last name. He works at Mike's Tavern."

Suddenly Olivia feels all the strength escape her body. Her eyes widen. Her stomach turns. And for a moment she can't remember how to breathe.


	9. Chapter Nine

_**

* * *

A.N.: Again, sorry about the wait. I don't really have a plan for this story so I've just been seeing where this is going and sometimes it takes longer than others to come up with the next chapter. So please excuse any delay. Also thanks to all those who have reviewed. Please continue to do so. Thank you.

* * *

The room is spinning out of control and she can't seem to stop it. **__Dan. Mike's Tavern._ She couldn't believe it. _It's him._ She has to sit down. She has to get of here._ Now._ _Speak_. She needs to speak. She needs to excuse herself but she can't find the words. _This is all my fault_.The room is spinning out of control and she can't seem to stop it. She couldn't believe it. She has to sit down. She has to get of here. . She needs to speak. She needs to excuse herself but she can't find the words. . 

Elliot looks over at his partner with worry. She looks like she is about to collapse. He toys with the idea of putting his hand on her back to steady her, discretely of course, but decides against it. She would want to remain as professional as possible in front of the victim and other officers. "Detective Benson," he says finally. She shakes her head slightly as she comes out of her daze and looks at him in confusion. He nods letting her know what his intention was.

Olivia gives him a look of understanding and gratitude in return. "Would you excuse me for a moment," she manages. Nodding politely at the victim, she quickly slips out of the apartment. She walks down the hall till she finds a back stairwell. The door slams shut behind her and finally she is alone. Taking a deep breath, she leans back against the cool concrete wall for support. As the guilt fills her head she begins to pace. After a few moments she takes a seat on the steps, practically collapsing.

Because of her cowardliness, her fear, her selfishness, another woman suffered. She enabled that man to assault Dawn Hawkins. That woman's life would never be the same and it was all her fault. How many more lives will he destroy before she musters up the courage to step forward?

Olivia buries her head in her hands and fights the urge to cry. The slam of the heavy metal door breaks into her thoughts. She doesn't need to look up to know who's standing in front of her. "Elliot," she says before lifting her head.

He gives her a soft smile and sits down besides her. "You okay?" he asks trying not to sound overly concerned or condescending.

"I'm fine," she replies unconvincingly. She looks into his doubting blue eyes, silently begging him not to continue the inquiry into her feelings. Not here. Not now. He relents immediately. There's a time and place for everything.

"Come on, I'll take you home." His voice is soft and gentle.

"What? No. No, I don't want to go home. I want to do my job," she protests whole heartedly.

Elliot tilts his head with disapproval. "Olivia," he starts.

"Don't Elliot. I'm doing this."

Running his hand over his face, he takes a long look at his partner. He knows she won't back down, not now, not when she has something to prove. He can only hope that she comes to make the right decision on her own, because there's no talking her into doing anything. "Fine."

Olivia stands up and straightens herself out. "CSU find any prints in the apartment?" she asks not missing a beat.

Elliot shakes his head, amazed at her ability to ignore her own feelings. "Yeah, but if he says its consentual the prints aren't gonna do us any good."

"Yeah," she agrees quietly as she slips past him. "I know."

Olivia proceeds to process the crime scene without letting her personal feelings interfere, but is unable to shake the feeling of anxiety growing inside her. After collecting all the evidence and taking the victim's statement Elliot and Olivia are called back to the station house.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Casey says sifting through some papers. "I can't get an arrest warrant with this. I need more evidence."

"We have the victim's statement," Elliot counters.

"That's not good enough," Casey states flatly.

"Come on Counselor, you have to do something," he pleads, more so for his partner than for the victim.

Olivia watches helplessly as Dawn Hawkins' case plays out exactly the way she knew her own would. However, she can't take comfort in knowing she was right because at the same time the tiny glimmer of hope she had been holding onto, that feeling buried deep inside her head that maybe everything would be alright, is slowly slipping away.

"I can't. My hands are tied Detective. You get me more and I'll see what I can do. For now, bring him in for questioning but don't arrest him. Hopefully, he'll incriminate himself." Casey slides some papers into her briefcase and closes it. "I'm sorry." With that she exits the squad room.

The frustrated detectives watch the young ADA leave. They're not mad at her though, Casey is a great assistant district attorney who constantly went to bat for the unit. They are just tired of seeing the system protect the wrong people.

"Okay people," Cragen says, drawing the detectives' attention back to the case. "Munch, Fin, go back to Dawn's apartment building and talk to her neighbors. See if they heard anything unusual."

Munch nods and stands up. "On it," Fin says following his partner out.

"You two," Cragen orders looking at Benson and Stabler, "go pick this guy up. Let's see if he gives us anything."

Olivia looks up at her boss with wide-eyed shock. She never even considered having to talk to him. It never crossed her mind that working this case meant interrogating her rapist. Without saying a word she stands up and starts toward the exit.

"Liv," Elliot calls after her. Olivia quickens her pace in an attempt to avoid him. "God, she walks fast," he mutters to himself as he follows her to the street. "How did you get out here so fast?" he asks finally catching up to her at the car.

Olivia shrugs. "I had to get out of there."

Elliot puts his hand on her shoulder. "Olivia, I really think you should take yourself of this case."

"I can't do that," she replies shaking her head and his grasp.

"Why not?" His voice rises unintentionally. He doesn't mean to sound demanding but he can't sit idly any longer. He has watched her put herself through hell all week without objecting. He didn't try to fight her. He didn't push her into anything. He barely argued with her. He let her make all her own decisions, no matter how much he disagreed. He knows her well enough to understand that she had to deal with this in her own way. He trusts her, respects her decisions. But this was too much, even for her.

"I have to do my job," she insists.

"No, you don't," he argues, "the world isn't gonna stop if you take a few days off." She looks at him sharply. "No one's gonna think any less of you Olivia. You don't have to tell anyone. Just say you don't feel well. Cragen won't doubt you."

She shakes her head. "No! Don't you get it, Elliot? I can't let this guy take any more from me than he already has. Especially not my job."

Elliot adjusts his wrist watch awkwardly as he scrambles for a response. "I understand that," he says slowly. "But you can't let your desire to prove yourself override your need to heal. It's too much."

"I just wanna get my life back to normal," she says, her voice tired.

"Questioning your rapist isn't normal."

* * *

Shortly after one p.m., Benson and Stabler pull up to Mike's Tavern. Neither one moves. "You ready?" Elliot asks glancing over at his partner. His attempt to convince her to take some time off had failed.

Olivia takes a deep breath and nods. Her eyes wander aimlessly. She taps her foot nervously on the floor taking more and more deep breaths. She can't move. "No," she exhales. "Take me back to the station house."

Elliot nods, pleased with his friend's decision. They begin to drive. Five minutes pass. "You sure you don't want me to take you home? I'll tell Cragen you got sick."

"No." He continues to drive. Another five minutes pass. "I have to tell him," she says suddenly, as if the thought just dawned on her.

Elliot turns his head toward her in shock. "What?"

"I have to tell Cragen," she repeats trying to convince herself she's making the right decision.

"You sure you want to do that?" he asks eagerly.

She nods slowly. "I don't want to. I have to. I can't do this. I can't work this case, and I won't lie to my boss." She looks at him and swallows hard. "I have to tell him."

"Okay," Elliot says calmly. "I think you're doing the right thing." He senses the dread in her voice and tries to reassure her.

* * *

"What are you do doing back here so soon?" Cragen asks seeing the two detectives entering the squad room. "Did you talk to our guy?" Olivia looks at her boss nervously. Although she had mentally rehearsed how she was going to tell him in the car, now she couldn't even speak. She turns her gaze to Elliot.

"No," Elliot says stepping forward, answering Olivia's silent request. "We didn't go in."

Cragen's arms fold over his chest and his eyebrows lower. "Why not?"

"Captain, can I talk to you?" Olivia finally speaks.

Cragen senses the urgency in her voice. "Sure. In my office." He turns around and goes into the small room.

"You want me to go with you?" Elliot asks Olivia.

"No. I got to do this myself," she answers lowly.

"Okay," he replies sitting down at his desk, "if you need me, you know where to find me."

"Captain," Olivia greets walking into Cragen's office and closing the door behind her.

Cragen settles himself behind his desk. "Detective Benson," he returns professionally. "What's on your mind?"


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N: As always thanks for the reviews, please continue.**

Without breaking eye contact Olivia takes a seat directly opposite her boss. She takes a deep breath, crosses her shaking legs and desperately tries to calm her nerves. She wants to look as professional and composed as possible. She won't allow herself to be seen as a fragile and hysterical victim. She doesn't want his first reaction to be to send her home because he doesn't think she could handle it.

Cragen sits patiently behind his desk waiting for his detective to speak. Olivia just stares back at him, unable to remember anything she had planned on saying. As she observes the blank look on the Captain's face she only becomes more nervous.

"Olivia," he finally says to break the silence. He's about to ask her if she's okay but she opens her mouth first.

"I was raped," she blurts out. She continues without giving Cragen a chance to fully process her statement. "It was our suspect from the Dawn Hawkins case-Dan. So I'm sorry, but I can't go question him right now. I just can't."

Shock overwhelms Cragen. "W-what?"

"A week and a half ago I was having a drink with a friend at Mike's Tavern, eventually she had to go, and the bartender struck up a conversation with me. We talked for a little and then he offered to walk me home. Once we reached my building he asked to come up to use the bathroom. I didn't want to rude. I know it was stupid, but I thought he was nice. I'm sorry." She stops suddenly. Her heart beat quickens. She can't even imagine how he's going to react.

Cragen runs his hand over his face and exhales. "Jesus Christ, Liv, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I-I don't know Captain." She lowers her head in shame. "I don't want everyone to see me as some poor victim. And I don't want to be treated any differently."

"Olivia, I would...we would never."

"I know. But I didn't think it would go anywhere. I know how these things work. I didn't want to make a big deal about it. I thought it would just go away. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it turned in to this. I'm sorry another woman had to get hurt."

"Olivia, stop. Don't apologize. None of this is your fault." Cragen leans back in his seat. There's a brief pause. "Do you want to file charges?"

Olivia looks away for a moment to think it over. She knows what she has to do and she doesn't like it. "I didn't," she starts, leaning forward intently. "I'm not that naive Captain. I know exactly how this is going to turn out. You heard Casey before- there's no evidence of rape, just intercourse. We were drinking all night, he walked me home, I let him in. Even the worst of defense lawyers could get him out of this."

"It's your decision," he assures her.

"But I can't let this happen to Dawn Hawkins. I can't sit by and do nothing while she fights this alone."

Cragen nods. "Okay." He stands and comes around the front of the desk so that he's next to her. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he says placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

"I know. I want to," Olivia answers as the tears begin to form in her eyes. "Everyday I tell victims how important it is that they come forward and report the crime. I assure them that the pain and humiliation of rape kits and police interviews are for their own good, but when it comes to me I'm too scared to step up. Why should I be any different? I have to practice what I preach. I have to do this. I'm ready now."

"Listen, I'll work this case myself so no one else has to know," he offers.

She swallows hard and nods. "Thanks, but Elliot already knows. And I don't care if you have to tell Munch and Fin, or Casey. Just handle it like its any other case." She can't help but sound defeated. She had tried so hard to move past this and now she would have to go through a trial, which she can only assume will be followed by the acquittal of her rapist.

"Fine. But this isn't any other case. Its not just some victim. Its you."

Olivia looks up at him with dark sincere eyes. "Thanks Captain."

"Why don't you take some time off?" he suggests sternly.

"No, that's the last thing I want. I just want to live my life. Please, let me do my job."

Cragen considers her request heavily. "Fine, Detective," he gives in. She smiles in gratitude. "But I don't want you anywhere near this case. And I don't want to hear an argument. You could work any other open case we got right now, but not your own. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." He looks down at her sympathetically and pauses before speaking. "Olivia, we're gonna need an official statement from you. Whenever you're ready."

"Now," she answers. "I'll do it now."

"Okay. Do you have any preference as to who you want to take it? I want you to feel as comfortable as possible."

Olivia nods. "You."

Cragen smiles warmly and returns to his position behind the desk. He's glad she chose him, that she trusts him enough to share such a personal matter, but he was secretly hoping that she picked someone else. She needs stability and comfort right now, and he's not sure how composed he could remain listening to her describe how some man violated her. He is sure that he doesn't want the images in his head. However, this isn't about him. This is about her. She's the most important thing right now. Grabbing a pen and pad he softly says, "start from the beginning."

Slowly Olivia begins to tell her boss about that night. As he listens to her describe how that ruthless bastard pinned her to the couch and forced himself inside her, he is overwhelmed with anger. More than anything he wants to get his hands on the man who did this to his detective. He imagines his fingers tightening around the man's neck as he pleads for his life. He doesn't even know this Dan guy, but he has never hated someone so much. Olivia wraps up, bringing Cragen out of his silent fit of rage.

"Did you tell anyone after it happened?" he asks, returning to a professional manner.

"Elliot, but that was about a week after."

"Alright, you..." Cragen starts but Olivia interrupts him.

"I did, however, have a rape kit done at Bellevue," she admits. "Its in evidence lockup. I asked that it not be released." Cragen looks at her surprised. "I guess my training got the best of me. After all, I am a cop."

He smiles. "Yes you are."

"Is that all?" she asks hopefully. Although Cragen was more than understanding, she still feels self-conscious about having described the most painful and degrading experience of her life to him in detail.

"Yes. I want you to take the rest of the day off." She nods. "And I urge you to do the same tomorrow. I know, I know," he says putting his hands up in defense of her forthcoming protest, "its not an order, just a suggestion. I'll leave it up to you."

Olivia stands. "Thank you Don," she says lowly.

Cragen comes around the desk and walks her to the door. As he reaches for the door knob he stops suddenly and turns to face her. "I'm sorry this happened to you Olivia," he says enveloping her in a firm hug.

"Thanks," she whispers returning the embrace.

"See you tomorrow Detective Benson."

Laughing she pulls away from him. "Yep."

* * *

Olivia walks out of Cragen's office with her head held high. She goes to her desk and starts to pack her things up. Munch and Fin have returned and now sit at their respective desks. "How did the canvass go?" she asks nonchalantly. 

Munch shakes his head. "Next door neighbor says he heard muffled moans and cries, but thought it was all in good fun" Olivia gives an understanding nod.

"Where you going?" Fin asks watching her slip her jacket on.

"Calling it an early day?" Munch joins in.

"Home. I don't feel well." She glances at Elliot with a crooked smile.

"I'll walk you out," Elliot offers before jumping out of his seat. Fin and Munch exchange glances as they watch the pair leave.

"What's that about?" Fin asks rolling his chair across the floor to grab some papers from the other side of the desk.

Munch raises his eyebrows. "Maybe all that sexual tension finally caught up to them?" he suggests.

"Sure. And they're doing it in the car as we speak," Fin quips sarcastically.

"Exactly," Munch responds leaning back in his seat.

Fin shakes his head. "You watch too much TV old man."

"Who you calling old?"

* * *

"So, how did it go?" Elliot asks once they reach the sidewalk. 

Olivia nods and shoves her hands in her pockets. "Good."

"Good. That's good," he replies at a loss for words.

"Yeah," she agrees. They look at each other in this moment of awkwardness. "He took me off the case," Olivia says after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

Elliot nods. "That's probably for the best."

"Yeah." A few more seconds tick by.

"Did he take your statement?"

"Yeah." More silence.

"Well, do you need a ride home?"

"No. No, I'm good."

"Okay." Elliot watches her as she starts to walk away. "Wait," he calls after her.

She turns back. "What's up?"

He sighs. "I'm sorry. I'm acting weird."

"Why?" she replies in confusion.

Elliot throws his head back and takes a deep breath. "Cause now its real. Its not just in my head, consuming my every thought. Now its in black and white. It's a case I'm going to have to work. I can't try to not think about it anymore. I can't keep myself from obsessing over finding this bastard. Now its my job to. Its my job to catch the man that raped my partner."

"You don't have to work this case," she tells him. "Fin and Munch could handle it."

"I don't want out. I want to nail this guy. Besides, I thought you didn't want anyone to know?"

She crosses her arms. "I didn't. But its not just about me anymore. I told Cragen to tell everyone; to work it like its any other case. I told him about the rape kit. I don't have the luxury of privacy anymore. Someone else got hurt. Now, all that matters is that we keep this guy from assaulting another woman."

"What rape kit?" Elliot asks.

"I had one done that night," she admits.

"I thought you...why didn't you tell me?" he stammers.

Olivia sighs and lowers her eyes. "I didn't want you to push me into reporting it. I figured if you thought there was no evidence you would just drop it."

"Liv, I would never push you to do anything you didn't want to," Elliot assures her.

"I know. I just didn't want to risk it. You have no idea how hard it was to get through that exam, but I made myself do it because I wanted the option of going after him. I knew one day I might come around and I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I made it any easier for him to get away with what he did to me. I had to be able to control something."

"I understand," he says simply.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya Liv."

* * *

After a few minutes of trying to wrap his head around the situation, Captain Cragen comes out of his office to address his detectives. "Where's Stabler?" he asks looking around. 

"He walked Olivia out," Munch answers suggestively.

Fin cuts his eyes at him. "Give it a rest man, they're not having sex."

"Yeah, and how do you know that?"

"Hey," Elliot greets walking back into the noisy squad room.

"That was quick," Munch notes with a smirk.

"Oh shut up," Fin replies.

"What's going on in here?" Elliot asks as he takes a seat at his desk.

The three detectives begin to bicker- a common occurrence in the unit.

"That's enough!" Cragen interjects. They immediately quit messing around and straighten themselves out.

"Sorry Capt," Munch mutters.

"Listen up," Cragen begins gravely, "we have another victim in the Dawn Hawkins case."

"Speaking of which," Fin interrupts. "Where is our suspect? I thought Elliot and Olivia were bringing him in." Elliot could feel eyes on him but he intentionally avoids eye contact with his co-workers.

"As I was saying," Cragen starts again. "We have a new development-another victim."

"Yeah, so? Who is it?" Munch asks.

Cragen takes a deep breath and glances at Elliot. "Olivia."

The name drops like a ton of bricks in the center of the room, silencing everyone.

"What?" Its Munch who manages to fight off the shock and speak first. He exchanges guilty looks with Fin. His friendly joking about Elliot and Olivia's relationship now seems incredibly inappropriate and tasteless.

Cragen sits back on the edge on the desk with a heavy sigh. "She just told me. Apparently it happened a week and a half ago. Same story as Dawn."

"Is that why she went home?" Fin inquires in a serious tone.

"Yes. I just took her statement. The rape kit's in lockup. We have everything we need from her."

"A week and a half ago," Munch repeats. "All this time and I didn't even realize anything was wrong."

"She didn't want anyone to know," Elliot replies solemnly.

"She told you?" Fin asks.

"A few days ago. She didn't want to. We got into a fight and it just came out."

Cragen looks around at the crestfallen expressions on his detectives' faces. Its time to rally the troops. "Look, I know how you all feel. I want to get my hands on this guy too, but we can't let our feelings for Olivia interfere with this case. She only came forward because she was afraid more women would get hurt. The best thing we can do for her now is lock him up. And its pertinent that we behave professionally. We all know how hard it is to prove acquaintance rape, so I don't want to give this guy a brutality complaint on top of it."

Fin looks around and asks the dreaded question. "What happened?"

As much as he hates to repeat Olivia's statement, they need to know to work the case. He picks up his note pad and starts to rattle off the facts about the attack. The detectives listen carefully, trying to keep their emotions in check. After he finishes the statement, Cragen looks at the detectives squarely and says, "I'll understand if any of you want to be taken off the case." He looks from face to face awaiting a response. No one speaks. "That's what I thought," he says proudly. His squad sticks together. They take care of their own. "Now, she hesitated to report it because she didn't want to be looked at any differently. She doesn't want to feel weak so make sure she doesn't." They all nod or mutter in response. "Any questions?" He waits.

"Is she coming back to work?" Fin aks with concern.

"She's Olivia. What do you think?" Cragen responds.

"That'll she'll be in tomorrow," Munch answers.

Cragen nods. "Okay, Munch, Fin go pick this son of a bitch up. Elliot, I want you to retrieve Olivia's rape kit from evidence and take it to the lap to be processed. Tell them to put a rush on it."

"Captain, I..." Elliot begins to protest.

"No Elliot. I won't allow you to bring this guy in. God knows what you'll do to him. She's your partner. You need some distance," Cragen tells him firmly.

The detectives embark on their mission with silent determination.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**_A/N: Please excuse my ignorance of the legal system. I did my best but I'm just a wanna-be writer. All my knowledge about law comes from TV so sorry. Also, thanks for the reviews._**

Detectives Munch and Tutuola make the short trip to the car in silence. Not a sound uttered between them. Neither knew if it was appropriate to speak about it, and if it was, what were they suppose to say? Had enough time passed? It was barely ten minutes ago when the Captain informed them that the case they were currently working would now be expended to include the rape of their friend and colleague. What's the appropriate amount of time to allow for the shock and emotion to settle in? Was it even okay to talk about it at all? Of course something had to be said. She was a part of the case now. They had things to discuss, important New York City police detective things. Now the only question was who would have the balls to start the conversation.

The doors to the black four door sedan slam shut simultaneously, Fin and Munch safely inside the car. The pair exchange heavy glances. Sitting in the eerily silent privacy of their car both detectives feel compelled to say something. Looking at his partner Munch opens his mouth but makes no sound. Deciding to just let it be for now he turns back with a sigh and puts the keys in the ignition. He starts the car and pulls away.

"Liv," Fin finally mutters shaking his head in disbelief. Munch turns and looks at him eagerly. He's glad one of them had the courage to start this conversation. "Oh man," he adds under his breath.

"I know," Munch concedes. "I don't even know what to say."

"You're speechless?" Fin replies. "That's a first." Usually he can't get the guy to shut up. Munch was always going off on some long winded tirade about government conspiracies and cover-ups.

Munch decides to ignore his partner's less than ambiguous remark. "I mean, it's Olivia," he says sincerely.

"I know," Fin returns in a similar tone. There's a brief pause, allowing a deafening silence to reenter. "Do you think we should call her, or something? I mean I don't know what to do?" Fin asks meekly. "I've never been on this side of it."

Munch shrugs. "Me either. It's ironic, isn't it? How many rape cases to we deal with in a given year? How many suspects do we question? How many victims do we talk to? And now when its someone we know, someone we care about, we don't know what to do with ourselves."

"Cause its her. Its personal. Like you said, we care about her," Fin answers looking straight ahead. "This doesn't go away when we lock this bastard up."

"If," Munch corrects, his voice low and regretful.

"What?"

"If we lock this guy up."

Fin sits up straight. "Oh, we'll get him," he says with confidence.

"Don't be so sure." Munch's voice goes unchanged.

"Why the hell not?" Fin demands angrily. "You think Liv's lying."

Munch glares at his partner for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "No. Of course not. How could you even say that?"

"Well, then what the hell is your problem?"

"Just cause someone did something wrong doesn't mean they'll be punished for it. I've been doing this a long time. I've seen too many perps get away and too many victims get screwed by the system."

"And you think Olivia's gonna be one of those victims?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Munch admits.

The two settle back into silence, but its not uncomfortable or awkward silence. They have said what was on their minds. They know how each other feel. While Fin is hell bent on finding this guy and making him pay, Munch is just hoping they won't let Olivia down. He knew the facts. There was no real evidence of rape, just intercourse. All they had was her word. But that had to count for something, right? There wasn't much supporting physical evidence but maybe the word of a decorated police detective was enough. Maybe. Hopefully.

The car came to a screeching stop in front of Mike's Tavern. The detectives step out of the car and slam their doors shut. Munch watches as his partner tears through the Tavern doors, charges to the bar, and demands to speak to Dan. He too was once that eager. Once upon a time, John Munch believed that what he did mattered, that the bad guy would be punished, and that good would ultimately triumph over evil. Not any more. All those years on the job had beat that belief out of him. He has become a victim of his own cynicism. He has come to expect the worse, because he got tired of the disappointment that came with hoping for the best. However, he didn't think he could handle it if Olivia's case turned out like he feared it would. There had to be some balance in the world. Something had to go right. Good had to win eventually.

As he comes up behind Fin, Munch spots a man that matches the description of their guy. He nudges Fin towards him. The fire in Fin's eyes only makes him more aware of the lack in his.

"Are you Dan?" Munch asks approaching the tall bartender.

The man finishes wiping down the bar top before looking up. "Who's asking?"

"NYPD!" Fin spits as he flashes his badge.

Munch puts his hand on his partner's shoulder to calm him down. "We just want to ask you a few questions," he tells the man kindly. "You're not in any trouble." As much as he hated this man he didn't want to intimidate him. If Dan thought he was in trouble he would refuse to talk, possibly get a lawyer. They had to be calm, nice even, no matter how revolting the guy was.

"What's this about?" Dan asks nervously clenching the edge of the bar. _It couldn't be, _he thought._ They would storm in here, drag me out in cuffs, not ask me nicely to go with them. This couldn't have anything to do with those women. No, it has to be something else. Probably that little underage prick who was in the bar the other night. He had served him three drinks before realizing he was only seventeen. Little punk probably got busted by his parents and ratted him out. That had to be it. Just stay calm. They don't know anything. _

"Listen," Fin says deliberately looking around the room, "do you really wanna do this here?"

"All these curious ears," Munch adds.

Dan looks around at the wondering eyes of co-workers and patrons. "No, I guess not," he agrees licking his lips.

"Alright, then why don't you come down to the station with us. Clear your name. It won't take long," Munch smiles.

"You'll be back here pouring drinks for these good people in no time," Fin says drily.

Dan unties his apron and tosses it under the bar. "Yo Tony," he calls over his shoulder, "cover for me. I gotta do something."

"No problem Dan," Tony calls back from the other end of the bar.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"So what's going on?" Dan asks once seated inside an interrogation room of the sixteenth precinct. Munch sits directly opposite him, calm and composed.

"You got a last name, Dan?" Fin asks from the far corner of the room. He thought it would be wise to stay as far away as possible from the son of bitch so he wouldn't be tempted to choke the life out of him.

Dan runs a hand through his hair, exhales sharply and taps his foot against the table nervously. "Fletcher. Daniel Fletcher."

"ID?" Munch requests. Dan reaches to his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He throws it on the table for Munch to see. The detective takes the wallet in his hand and studies the driver's license. Quickly he jots down the name and address before pushing the wallet back towards Dan.

"Is someone gonna tell me what this is all about?" Dan asks clasping his hands together under the table.

Munch smiles. "Oh yeah, sorry. Do you know a woman named Dawn Hawkins?"

Dan leans forward. "Wh-what?"

"Look, if you don't know her then we're sorry for dragging you down here," Munch interjects. He sees an opportunity and jumps at it.

"Ugh, no," Dan answers after a brief pause. "Never heard of her."

Munch looks over his shoulder at his partner and flashes a sly smile. He produces a picture of the victim. "You sure you never seen this woman?" he asks casually.

Dan takes a long look at the photograph of Dawn Hawkins. "Never seen her," he insists.

Slowly Munch pulls the photo back and puts it in a yellow folder. "Alright," he says nodding. "How about Olivia Benson? You know her?"

Dan bites his lower lip and shakes his head. "Nope. Can't say I do." Again Munch pulls out a picture and shows it to him. Dan takes it in his hands and scrutinizes it. "Sorry," he says handing the photo of Olivia back to John.

"Thanks," Munch says simply.

"So, am I done here?" Dan wonders. He leans back in his seat confident he's going to walk out of here a free man.

"Just a sec," Fin finally speaks from the corner.

Munch pushes his chair back and rises. "Yeah, sit tight. We'll be back." He follows Fin out of the room.

"Why so quiet in there?" Munch asks his partner once outside.

Fin shrugs. "I didn't wanna scare the guy. You had the moron thinking he was just here for a little chat. Did you see how he looked at those photos-studying them. I wanted to smack the teeth out of his mouth right there."

Munch nods. "I know. So what do you think?" he inquires seriously. "The denial's enough?"

"I don't know. You can't have consentual sex with someone you don't know," Fin answers. "If his DNA matches the rape kit then we're good."

"Yeah. Now the only problem is getting his DNA," Munch returns with a raise of his eyebrows.

"You don't think we have enough for an arrest warrant?"

Munch nods thoughtfully. "Possibly. Let's call Casey, see if she goes for it.."

John paces the floor of the squad room anxiously. "Where the hell is she?" he demands, annoyed.

"Relax man," Fin replies, "it's only been a few minutes."

"Maybe we should call her again," Munch suggests urgently.

"John," Cragen starts calmly, "Casey's on her way."

Munch rolls his eyes. "We can't keep him in there forever Captain. Eventually, he'll get suspicious. We have no reason to hold him, if we piss him off he's gonna bolt."

"She'll be here any minute," Cragen tells him.

"Well, does she know how important this is? Did you explain what's going on?"

"No. I didn't mention Olivia. She sounded rushed and I didn't wanna do it over the phone," Cragen answers.

The sound of high heals rapidly beating down on the floor bring their attention to the door. Casey flies into the squad room in a fury.

"Where's the fire Casey?" Fin asks noticing her flustered state.

She stops in front of them and throws her brief case on the desk. "I just got a call from Elliot asking if I issued an arrest warrant for Olivia's attacker. Then I get your call asking me to come down here as soon as possible." She takes a deep breath. "Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"

The detectives explain the situation as best and as quickly as possible. Casey looks at them directly. "Arrest him," she says simply.

"Just like that?" Fin asks incredulously.

"Yes," she answers. "I call my boss, get the paper work started." Casey breaks off from the group to make the call.

Cragen gives Munch and Fin an authoritative nod and they head towards the interrogation room. "Allow me," Fin whispers slipping past his partner into the tiny room with a devilish grin.

"Finally," Dan sasses upon their entrance. "I've been sitting here all Goddamn day."

"Our apologies Danny-boy," Fin responds with a smirk.

Dan rolls his eyes and stands up. "Can I go now?"

"One more thing," Munch says.

"What?"

"Daniel Fletcher, you are under arrest for the rapes of Dawn Hawkins and Olivia Benson. You have the right to-" Fin grabs him as Munch reads him his rights.

"What? No! Get off of me," he cries jerking his arm away from Fin's.

Fin tightens his hold on the suspect. "Detective Munch, looks like our friend here is resisting arrest."

"Then I guess you should use necessary force," Munch responds with a smile.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**AN: I know it's been a while, but midterms got the best of me. I apologize for the long delay. Anyway, I just wanted to get this out as soon as possible. Hope you enjoy. Please review. Thanks.**

* * *

"Hey Captain," Elliot calls walking through the squad room and into Cragen's office. "Crime labs working the rape kit right now. I told them we'll send over the suspect sample as soon as possible." 

Cragen nods and looks up from his paperwork. "Good."

"So," Elliot starts curiously, "did you arrest the guy?"

"Yep," Cragen answers simply.

Elliot looks at his boss with suspicion. "How?"

"Moron denied knowing both victims. And he has no alibi for the times of the attacks-didn't even try to make one up. Casey says that's reason enough to hold him."

"Good. That's good," Elliot says, slowly running his hand over his mouth. Relief washes over him. Cragen nods in silent agreement. "Did anyone tell Olivia?"

Cragen pushes his work aside and looks at his detective. "No. Not yet. I want to get things sorted here first. Make sure the arrest sticks. I don't want to tell her we caught the guy and then have him out on bail the next morning."

Elliot takes a seat in front of Cragen's desk. "You don't think we have enough to lock him up, do you?"

"I don't know Elliot."

"Why not? We'll have his DNA.".

"Its not that simple," Cragen tells him. "He could get a lawyer, flip his whole story, claim we tricked him into lying and say he does know them, that it was consentual. Then what good is his DNA gonna be?"

"No," Elliot answers angrily. "He can't do that. He already said he didn't know them. We got him. His DNA's gonna match. We're gonna line up witnesses who saw them leave together. We're gonna lock him up."

"I hope so," Cragen responds simply.

* * *

Olivia returns to her apartment with a bag of groceries tucked under her arm. After being told to go home early she had nothing better to do then go grocery shopping. Her refrigerator had nothing in it but diet soda, carrots and mayonnaise, and even the most creative cook couldn't do much with that. As she placed the brown paper bag on the kitchen table she caught a glimpse of the flashing red light on her answering machine. Letting her curiosity get the best of her she postponed unpacking the groceries and hit the play button. 

"_You have 3 new messages," _the automated voice informed her.

She leans back against the counter wondering what, or rather who,awaits her on the machine.

"_First new message."_

"Hey Liv, its me." She rolls her eyes. _Its me._ He always did that. Why say anything if you're gonna say _its me? _You might as well just start talking. "Um, I just wanted to call and see how you were...well, not exactly... I mean I care how you are but that's not why I'm calling. Look, I just...I'm sorry bout before...on the sidewalk. I don't know...maybe this is just too weird for me and I know its incredibly selfish of me to think like that, so I'm sorry. Okay. I'm sorry. That's what I wanted to say. Well, I talk to you later." She couldn't help but smile. She loved that he always had to do the right thing. Always had to try to fix things. Couldn't deal with the guilt. That's Elliot for you.

"_Second new message."_

"Hey." At first she didn't recognize the voice. "Its Fin. Listen, I'm not real good at this but if you need anything give me a call." Simple enough, she thought.

"_Third new message."_

"Olivia...hi." She was wondering when she'd hear from her. "Its Casey. I just heard. I wish you would have told me. I am so sorry. Give me a call, okay? I would really like to talk to you. Bye."

She couldn't help but smile. Actually, she almost wanted to laugh. She wasn't expecting that. She wasn't sure what she had expected...awkward silence and weird looks perhaps, but she was wrong. They were good about it. Concerned, but not smothering. Maybe she should have trust her friends more. However, she knew seeing them tomorrow would be difficult. No matter how understanding they sounded onthe phoneseeing her in person would be a whole other story. Still, she was glad it was out in the open. She felt much less weighed down. She no longer had to carry around this huge secret.

Just as she starts to unpack the buzzer sounds. She rolls her eyes assuming it's Elliot and places the carton of eggs on the table._ Does this guy ever give it up?_ she wonders .

"God Elliot, you need a hobby," she says into the intercom.

"Its John." His voice is low and serious, too serious.

She looks at the intercom with confusion. She feels like a complete moron for saying what she said. "Oh hey, sorry. Come on up." She realizes he was the only one who didn't leave an awkward but well-meaning message on her machine.

Soon after there is a quiet knock on the door. Even his knock is somber. "Hey John," she greets softly.

"Hi," Munch returns. She makes a gesture with her hand and he follows her inside. "You expecting Elliot?" he asks.

"What? No," she answers eyeing him strangely.

"The intercom," he says with a raise of his eyes.

Olivia laughs. "Oh that. No. I just thought it might be him."

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looks at her, then at the floor. She could tell he doesn't know what to say, that he's uncomfortable. He's not his usual sarcastic self, although she wishes he would be. That would make the situation a lot less tense.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she offers.

Munch shakes his head. "No. No thanks."

"Okay," she replies slowly sitting down on the couch. "Well, what's up?"

He takes a seat next to. He places his hands on his knees and takes a deep breath, like he's preparing for something. Suddenly he turns to face her and speaks. "I'm sorry about what happened to you. You shouldn't have had to go through that. I wish there was something I could have done."

She nods and returns his serious look. "I know. Thank you." Her expression softens. She wants him to feel comfortable around her.

He takes her hand and squeezes it in a gentle assuring way. "We got him," he says looking her in the eyes.

Her jaw drops slightly. "What?" she manages, her hand still in his.

"Cragen didn't want to tell you till we were sure we could hold him, but I figured you could use a good night's sleep." He offers a thin smile.

Olivia takes her hand from his and brings it to her mouth. She doesn't know what to do or how to react. Munch waits patiently for her to process what he just told her. Finally, her shock fades to relief. She smiles and leans back. "That's good. Real good. That's really good." She doesn't address Munch directly, instead it appears she's talking to herself.

"Yeah it is," Munch says patting her on the leg with a chuckle. He stands up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

It takes a moment for Olivia to realize he's leaving but when she does she gets up too. "John, wait." He stops at the door and turns back to her. She walk s over to him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispers.

He's shocked at first but quickly catches himself. "You're welcome," he replies with a smile. "And remember, if Cragen finds out I told you I'm unemployed."

"Got it. You could have just left a message like everyone else," she jokes.

He shrugs. "You know me and technology don't mix."

She laughs. "Bye John."

"Goodnight Olivia."

* * *

Olivia lies in bed starring at the ceiling. _They arrested him. He is in jail, at least for the night. She understood Cragen's hesitation in telling her. It wasn't a sure thing. Nothing was. They still had to get through the trial. If there would be a trial. It was up to the grand jury. She would still have to testify. And there was a chance he could get out on bail, or walk, not be punished at all. But for now, even if it was just for the night, she was safe from him. _Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**P.S. I think this story might be coming to an end soon. It seems to be winding down, although I have no particular conclusion in mind. Just wanted to keep you posted. **

**-Sincerely,**

**Jordana **


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A.N.: Okay, I'm sorry about the extreme delay in updating. I've been a little busy. Hope you enjoy. Please review. Thanks. **

She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this at first. In fact, she had been angry at them for indirectly pushing it, for telling her it was the only way and that it would be good for her, but never flat out telling her that she should do it because everyone was still a little sensitive around her, which she hated. Still, she understood what they meant and did ultimately agree to it because she knew how important it was. However, now she thinks she will think twice before telling a victim that this is the first step to closure. She had learned that closure was a myth and she didn't expect to get it after the verdict was handed down, or any time soon. She didn't expect to get over it at all. The most she could wish for was some semblance of the life she had before that night. But she would settle for just a few moments a day when it wasn't on her mind.

The chair is cold and hard and from where she's sitting the room seems huge, like it goes on forever. She could see the four of them, Elliot, Cragen, Munch, and Fin, her friends, her colleagues, sitting behind Casey, eyeing the monster that ruined their friend's life with unimaginable hate, ready to come to her defense at any moment. Her own personal security team.

Still, she is scarred to face him, to look directly at him. She isn't sure she could remain composed while starring back at him. She's afraid to look into those piercing green eyes again. Those eyes that had tricked her, that had pretended to be kind and gentle.

It was strange at first. She had never imagined being on this side of it. Casey directed her questions at her with care and discretion, but she was still uncomfortable divulging such a personal experience. If it had just been Casey it may have been different, but the entire court room was listening to her describe it. And it was a little daunting painting the picture for everyone.

She tries not making eye contact with anyone as she speaks but it does little to ease her qualms. When Casey finishes up and the defense lawyer rises she notices her legs and hands are shaking. She can't seem to stop them. He shuffles over till he is directly in front of her, standing proud in his expensive suit and slicked back hair, or what remains of it. She knows him. He has defended a number of rapists in the past. He has sat in the interrogation of her precinct next to some piece of scum going on about due process or lack of evidence. Another person she would never be able to look in the eye.

He starts with a series of simple questions about how she ended up alone at the bar. She handles them well, truthfully.

"How many drinks would you say you had that night Miss Benson?" he asks directly, raising his eyes at her accusingly. Instantly you could feel the shift in the court room. Now its serious, now they're getting somewhere.

Olivia sits up straight. This is what the jury would consider when deciding if Daniel Fletcher was guilty or not.

"It's Detective Benson," she says firmly, proudly. She isn't going to let this greasy little man with half a conscience get to her.

"Sorry," he smirks. "How many drinks did you have that night, Detective Benson?"

"Three," she answers flatly. She had made it a point to figure that out before the trial started. She knew that it would be brought up, probably a key point in the defense. Fin had pulled her tab from Mike's Tavern.

"Three," he repeats as he rolls his head towards the jury. She never understood why lawyers always felt the need to repeat things. "So would you say you were drunk?"

"Not at all." She locks eyes with him for the first time. "I had been there for over two hours."

"But you're judgment wasn't as clear as it would have been if you were sober?" he insists.

"I can't be sure of what would have been. Unfortunately, I lack the gift of clairvoyance."

The lawyer smiles, amused by her sass. He scrambles for another way to use her brief alcoholic indulgence against her. "Didn't you stumble upon standing, claiming that you're last drink went straight to your head?"

"Yes."

"So, your night of drinking did have some affect on you?"

"I had a little headache. I wasn't drunk," Olivia insists.

The lawyer walks towards the jury. "How did you get home from the bar, Detective Benson?"

"I walked."

"Alone?"

"No. He walked me home." She made it a point not to waiver, to keep her voice steady.

"He who?"

She eyes the lawyer coldly. "Dan."

"He offered to walk you home, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"And you accepted?"

"Not at first, but he insisted."

"He insisted? Why did he insist?"

"He said he didn't want me to walk home alone. That it was dangerous."

"But you're an officer of the law, Detective. Don't you know how to protect yourself?"

"Yes, but…"

"But you accepted his offer anyway? In fact, you never mentioned that you were a detective," he interrupts.

"Yes, but…"

"So you wanted him to walk you home because you didn't want the night to end."

"Objection," Casey interjects angrily.

"No! That's not true," Olivia shoots back.

"Is there a question Mr. Taylor?" the judge demands.

"Yes. Sorry Your Honor." He walks back towards Olivia. "Why did you accept his offer to walk you home, Detective?"

"I thought he was sincere," Olivia answers guiltily.

"Detective Benson, do you make it a habit to bring home strange men from bars?"

"No I do not," she answers calmly although she's fuming on the inside.

"So, tell me how my client ended up in your apartment."

"He asked to use the bathroom." She can't believe how ridiculous it sounds out loud. _How did this all happen? Well, he asked. _She shutters at the sheer stupidity.

"He asked? And you agreed to let him come in?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to be rude." She hated admitting it because she still felt guilty about it. She hated that she was that naïve.

"You didn't want to be rude?" he asks incredulously, a smile dancing on his lips.

"Yes."

"So what happened after he used the bathroom?"

Olivia tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and exhales. "He asked for a drink of water."

"And did you get it for him?"

"Yes."

"Because you didn't want to be rude," he mocks. She glares at him. "Did you ask Mr. Fletcher to leave after you gave him the water?"

"No. Not right away."

"Why not?"

"I told you, I didn't want to be rude," she insists.

"Rude? You keep saying that. What were you so concerned with being rude?"

"Because he was being nice to me and he was a guest in my house."

"So Mr. Fletcher was nice?"

"At first."

"At any time before the alleged assault did you feel threatened by Mr. Fletcher?"

Olivia looks up and answers quietly, "no."

"So he kept you company after your friend left you stranded at a bar. You engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Fletcher. You even flirted a little. He walked you home. You let him into your apartment. Did you feel you owed Mr. Fletcher something?"

"Absolutely not," Olivia spits disgusted by the thought.

"So why let him in? Why not ask him to leave?"

"How many times do I have to say it? I didn't want to be rude. He seemed nice. I thought he would just leave on his own." She struggles to keep her tone under control.

"But he didn't leave on his own, did he? He sat down and you joined him-willingly. Correct?"

"Yes," she answers guiltily.

"So what happened after you sat down next to Mr. Fletcher on the couch?"

Olivia shifts nervously under the scrutiny of her co-workers. "He started to touch me so I asked him to leave."

"Did you say _please leave_?"

"No."

"No. What did you say?"

"I-I don't remember exactly."

"You said it was getting late," Taylor points out. "You never specifically asked my client to leave."

"Yes. I told him I thought he should go."

"You thought he should go? But you didn't actually want him to go, did you?"

"Yes I did!" Now, for the first time on the stand she has to fight back tears.

"Detective Benson, you had been flirting with Mr. Fletcher all night. You brought him back to your apartment. What were you expecting to do?"

"Nothing. I was just going to let him use the bathroom like he asked."

"Were you attracted to my client, Detective?"

"I thought he was charming," she admits.

"It doesn't sound like Mr. Fletcher had to force you to do anything."

Olivia's face fills with shock and disgust, but before Casey could come to Olivia's defense Taylor moves on. "Is it possible that you willingly engaged in sexual relations with Mr. Fletcher and then felt ashamed about sleeping with a man you hardly knew so you made up this little tale of rape?"

"No! He held me down and forced himself into me. I didn't willingly engage in anything. And I most certainly did not make anything up."

"So why wait a week to mention it to anyone?"

"I was ashamed."

"If you were raped why were you so ashamed?"

Olivia pauses. She really didn't know why. "I don't know. I just was."

"No more questions your honor."

"You may step down," the Judge says

Olivia takes a seat next to Elliot and listens to the rest of the proceedings. She feels sick with anticipation. She has no idea how she did or if the jury believed her. She was telling the truth but how much did that really count for? The criminal justice system could be a tricky thing. It doesn't always serve the good, and sometimes it protects the bad. She had seen too many perps walk, too many victims get screwed. She wasn't holding her breath. She knew things didn't always work out the way they should. She didn't believe in happy endings.

Dawn Hawkins testimony was similar to her own, although she was a bit more shaky. Taylor was able to get her into her head, confuse her, make her feel guilty. When she stepped down from the stand she was in tears.

Olivia listens as the lawyers finish up their closing statements. Casey argues the victims' credibility and the violence and deceit behind the attacks. Taylor focuses on the events leading up to the attack, the obvious attraction and flirtation between the women and his client. He paints Dan Fletcher as a honest and kindhearted man who wouldn't need to rape a woman.

Olivia's nausea builds. Soon she'll find out if the bastard who destroyed her sense of security, her sense of herself, would be held accountable for his actions.

They sit outside of the courtroom while the jury convenes. It could take hours for a verdict to be returned but they weren't going anywhere.

"Here," Fin says handing Olivia a cup of coffee. Her elbows rest on her knees, her head in her hands.

"Thanks," she replies without looking up. "God, what's taking so long?" she whispers.

Casey puts her hand on Olivia's shoulder. "These things take time," she says.

"I know," Olivia responds. She stands up and turns her back to her friends. "I just want to get this part over with."

"You're doing great Liv," Elliot tells her. She disagrees, but she gives him an understanding look.

A couple of hours tick by. They sit, huddled on the benches outside the court room, sometimes talking, sometimes not.

Finally, they're called back into the court room. Everyone assumes their previous positions.

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" the judge asks.

A man seated on the far left side of the jury rises. "We have, Your Honor."

"How does the jury find the defendant?"

Olivia glances at Daniel Fletcher one last time and takes a deep breath. She could feel someone squeeze her hand. Her heartbeat quickens.

"We find the defendant…"

**A.N : Would you hate me if I said that's the end? Just kidding…more to come soon, I think. **


	14. Chapter Fourteen

A/N: Ok, so this is it-the final chapter. I thought about adding a couple more but I really don't want to drag the story out. So I hope you all like it. And finally, I just want to thank every one who read and reviewed. It means so much to me to hear that someone out there actually enjoyed my little story.

-Jordana Amore

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Her heart almost stops. She can't believe what the jury foreman just said. She even has to look around at the expressions on her friends' faces to make sure. _Guilty. That's what the foreman said, right? _It had to be because as the thought crosses her mind Daniel Fletcher is being led out of the courtroom wearing handcuffs and a look of absolute disbelief. She doesn't move till he's completely out of her sight, and her life.

After the verdict is handed down there is a flurry of hugs and awkward congratulations. Olivia just smiles through it all almost in shock. Munch and Fin excuse themselves immediately after to get back to a case and Cragen rushes off to a meeting after offering her some supportive words. She leaves the courtroom flanked by Elliot and Casey.

"You did great," Elliot tells her with a proud smile.

"I never expected it to turn out this way," she admits.

"You had that little faith in me, huh," Casey teases.

Olivia cracks a rare smile. "No. I just…I don't know. I guess I was wrong."

"See, sometimes justice does prevail," Elliot points out with a grin.

"Yeah," she replies in a detached manner. "I guess so." It still doesn't seem real. She almost expects to wake up and find out it was just a dream or be called back into the courtroom and told the foreman read the verdict wrong.

"So how does it feel?" Casey asks only to be interrupted by the ringing of Elliot's cell phone.

After saying only a couple of words he closes the phone and shoves it back into his pocket. "Well, that my cue," he says. "I got to go. I'll see you later." He gives Olivia a quick hug and leaves.

"You want to grab something to eat?" Casey asks her as they step out of the courthouse and into the cold. Olivia doesn't answer. She doesn't even hear her. "Liv?…Olivia?….Detective Benson?"

"Yeah," Olivia answers finally.

"So do you?"

Olivia looks confused. "Do I what?"

Casey laughs lowly. "Get something to eat."

"Um," Olivia starts.

Casey stops suddenly on the front steps of the court house. She turns to look her friend directly in the eyes. "Liv, you could breathe now. It's over," she says seriously.

Olivia takes a few seconds to answer. "I know. Thank you for everything."

"So I'll take that as a no."

"I'm sorry Casey. I don't really feel like going out right now. I just want to get home. My heads still spinning from all this," the detective reveals.

"I could imagine."

"Maybe tomorrow?"

Casey smiles, "yeah, that'd be great."

"Ok. I'll see ya."

Casey leans in to hug her friend, Olivia returns the gesture. "Take care Liv."

"Bye."

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For the first time in weeks Olivia walks into her apartment confidently. She throws her bag and keys on the table by the door and takes a long look around. With a stone cold look of determination she walks over to the couch, where it all took place. After taking a couple of deep breaths she sits down and smiles. It's a little less terrifying. _That's a start at least_, she thinks.

She spends the rest of the day watching television, jogging, running errands, cleaning the bathroom, and alphabetically arranging her music collection. By six-thirty that night everything that she could possibly do is done. The strain of the day is starting to show and Olivia begins to look through her kitchen for something to eat. She grabs a box of pasta out of the cupboard and starts to look for a pot. It's nothing special but pasta is one of the only things she could cook.

Suddenly the buzzer rings out through the apartment. The sudden sound startles her and there's a loud clamor of crashing pots and pans. "Damn it," Olivia mutters as she gets to feet and rushes over to the buzzer.

"Yeah?" she says into the small intercom.

"Guess who?" a voice she instantly recognizes as Elliot's responds.

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Come on up, I'll unlock the door." She quickly unlocks the door so she could tend to the mess in the kitchen without interruption.

Elliot opens the door to Olivia's apartment but knocks as he does just to warn her. "Liv?" he calls out as he steps inside.

"In the kitchen," she answers. She shoves the last pot back into the cabinet with a frustrated grunt.

"You alright?" Elliot asks with an amused smirk.

"Yeah. So what's up?"

"Nothing. We just thought we'd stop by," he answers.

Olivia whips her body around. "We?" She immediately sees what he means. Standing behind him is Munch, Fin and Casey. She shakes her head with a laugh. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," John answers stepping forward with a bag in each arm. "We figured you'd be home making your sad little pasta so we bought you some real food."

"You did," she says leaning back against the counter.

"Yep, from that little Chinese place on the corner," Fin explains.

Casey steps forward. "I know you said you didn't want to go out to eat earlier, but you never said anything about eating in."

Olivia laughs again. "You got me there."

"If you want us to leave then we're gone," Elliot tells her.

"Could I keep the food?" she asks with a grin. "Of course I want you to stay. You could put that stuff in the dinning room. I'll get some plates."

The guys take the food in the other room and begin unpacking as Casey helps Olivia get the silverware. "You sure you don't mind us all being here?" the ADA asks as she reaches for a cup.

"Absolutely not. Honestly I'm glad you came. If I had to eat pasta one more time I think I'd throw up."

"So learn to cook something else," Casey teases.

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Funny. Here take these." She hands Casey a pile of plates. "I'll get the cups."

"Oh like you know anything about it," Elliot says skeptically in the other room. The three men are setting the food out on the table.

"Who says I don't?" Munch counters as he removes a container from the brown paper bag.

"Oh please. Don't get him started," Fin pleads.

"The Yankees are nothing but an army of overpaid mindless government-controlled robots"

"What do you know about baseball Munch?" Fin asks tiredly.

"More than you think," he insists.

"How are the Yankees a government conspiracy?" Elliot asks. He knows he's inviting an endless rant about mind control and manipulation but he can't help himself.

Fin reaches for one of the containers on the opposite end of the table. "You're such a nutcase."

"Because," Munch starts enthusiastically, "they're a tool of distraction. Nothing but a smoke screen. Don't you see? They use money and power to manipulate people into believing that the most important thing to talk about is the Yankee-Red Socks game so no one thinks about the real problems in the world."

"Like aliens and UFOs?" Elliot questions trying to keep his grin at bay.

"Yeah it's all fun and games to you. Just wait. You won't be laughing for long," John warns.

"So the Government is using the New York Yankees to brainwash us?" Fin's voice is a mix of doubt and amusement.

"Yes. How do you think they afford all those all star players?" Munch points out.

Elliot rolls his eyes. "Wow, you've really lost it this time."

"What about the Mets…are they a tool of the devil?" Fin jokes.

"Watch out, Satan's playing ball," Elliot says with a chuckle.

Munch narrows his eyes at his friends with scorn. "Okay, go ahead. Make fun of me. You'll see."

Olivia and Casey enter the room in time to hear the last part of the guys' little argument. "Oh God, here we go again," Olivia groans placing the cups in the center of the table.

"Please tell me this isn't what we're going to have to hear all night," Casey adds as she hands the plates to Elliot.

"Oh come on Casey, admit it. You love it," Munch teases.

Casey snorts. "I'd rather swallow glass than listen to you John," she says with a huge smile.

"Now that's something I'd love to see," Olivia chimes in.

"Okay who forgot the fortune cookies?" Fin asks with disappointment.

"Cookies? What are you five?" Munch responds.

"They're not just any cookies Conspiracy Boy," Fin retorts lifting a forkful of beef and broccoli to his month.

"I didn't know you believe in that stuff Fin," Olivia says. She passes a small white container to Elliot.

"I don't," Fin states. "I just like the cookies."

As the five continue to eat the room fills with excited talk and laughter and of course the occasional argument.

-Complete


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